


What Comes From Legends

by covarla



Series: The Truth Between Legends and Lies [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, BAMF Stiles, Derek is Not a Failwolf, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mystery, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-11-15 11:05:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11229648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/covarla/pseuds/covarla
Summary: Things almost seem to have returned to normal, despite some odd occurrences and the lingering threat of Gerard's presence.  Magic is still new to Stiles and the pack, but stranger things are yet to be seen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Before I get too far into this story arc, I just wanted to give a quick explanation about the timeline for the series (see end note below). This contains spoilers for the first arc (Not That Kind of Fairy Tale), which really should be read before this story. This arch starts about a week after the previous one ended.

“My birthday party is Friday night,” Lydia announced as she sat her tray down at the lunch table and sank down into the seat next to Allison. “Eight o’clock. Gift cards to Amazon, Starbucks, or Macy’s are acceptable.”

Stiles paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. He looked up and met Scott’s gaze and was relieved to find that Scott was just as surprised. Lydia had been sitting with their group most days for the past month, ever since Allison was accused of murder, but Stiles hadn’t actually expected that to transfer into socialization outside of school. He certainly didn't expect an invitation to her party.

Luckily, Allison wasn’t as surprised as the rest of them. “Of course,” she said, turning to Lydia with a smile. “Do you need any help setting up?”

Lydia tilted her head, her lips pursing as she though. “No, I think we’re good. Jackson was going to come over and help. Right, Jackson?” Lydia turned to him with an expectant look. Jackson nodded his head with a barely suppressed eye roll. Lydia’s eyes narrowed, but she turned to Cora instead. “You can invite your ridiculously handsome older siblings if they’re in town,” she said. 

Cora raised an eyebrow and shrugged before turning back to her tray. “Sure.”

Lydia considered Cora for another long moment and Stiles jumped in before she could say anything that might start an argument. Cora and Lydia were friendly most of the time, but they both had strong personalities and were used to being at the top of their social groups. “Nicholas is at college, but Derek and Laura are back in Beacon Hills,” he said quickly. He hastily took a bite of his bland cafeteria pasta when Lydia turned her gaze on him. 

Her eyes were unfocused for a second, as if she was thinking. “Derek…” She tapped a perfectly manicured nail against her lips. “Wasn’t he on the basketball team?” She smiled suddenly. “Is he still hot like burning?”

“Yup,” Stiles answered absently. He looked up when the table around him went silent. Lydia was giving him an amused look while Allison looked a bit surprised. Scott had a hand over his mouth, trying to cover a laugh. Stiles turned slowly to his left to see Cora and Erica giving him matching wolf-like grins. “What? He is.” Lydia’s eyebrows climbed a little higher. Stiles blushed. 

“Something you want to tell me about your relationship with my brother?” Cora asked. Beside her, Erica was practically cackling with glee.

“No,” Stiles spluttered defensively. He raised a finger to point at Cora. “I can appreciate the male form, thank you very much. Male form, female form. I’m, like, constantly surrounded by hot people and therefore qualified to make statements about the relative hotness of individuals.”

“Is that so?” Lydia said. He turned to look at her again and saw that she was smiling.

“Yes,” he said, relaxing a little bit. He pointed to Danny, sitting to his left. “Hot,” he said. His finger moved to point to Jackson on Danny's other side. “Jackass,” he said, before moving his finger to point to Lydia and Allison. “Hot and hot.” He pointed at Scott. “Practically my brother, so eww.” He continued, pointing to the four werewolves to his left. “Hot, hot, hot, and hot.” Surprisingly, Isaac and Erica actually blushed at that. But then, he knew that the Hales had taught them to use their senses. They knew he wasn’t lying. Cora bumped shoulders with him. Stiles raised an eyebrow back at Lydia.

Lydia hummed what sounded like an agreement before turning to Danny. “Did you get a chance to put together the mix CDs I wanted?”

Danny glanced over at Stiles, his expression unreadable, before his attention turned back to Lydia. “Yeah, they’re in my locker.” 

“Excellent.” 

Stiles turned back to his lunch. He let the conversation flow around him as he devoured everything that was on his tray. He was still a little bit hungry when he finished and contemplated going back for another piece of fruit or something. Beside him, Cora snorted. She passed him her apple at the same time Scott offered him a pudding cup. Stiles grinned and took both. He ripped the top off the pudding and happily dug in.

“Jesus Stilinski,” Danny said suddenly. “How do you eat like that and still look like a scrawny twink?”

Stiles turned to look at him, the spoon still in his mouth. He blinked as his brain raced to find a plausible lie. It wasn’t like he could actually tell Danny that he was regularly using more magic than his body could fuel. He pulled the spoon out of his mouth. “New ADHD med. Side effect is a really high metabolism.” Stiles paused for a second. “And I’ve been running a lot,” he added.

Danny gave him one last long look before shaking his head. “Maybe you’ll actually place at the track meets this year then.”

Stiles shot him an affronted look while the rest of the table snickered. He shook his head and turned back to his pudding cup. At least the rest of the table knew the hard work he put in. He earned his pudding cup, thank you very much. He managed to quickly eat the pudding cup and the apple, finishing just in time for the bell to ring.

“At the very least,” Lydia said as they were shuffling out of the cafeteria, “the party will give me something to look forward to after my mandatory meeting with the new guidance counselor.” Lydia’s voice dripped with derision. 

“She’s not that bad,” Allison said with a smile. “I met with her on Monday.”

“Erica and I have appointments this afternoon,” Isaac added. 

Stiles turned to look at Boyd when the man spoke. “Thursday.” Stiles nodded, then paused as he put together the people with appointments. His eyes darted from Lydia to Allison and the others. All the kids who Ennis took. He glanced at Lydia again and saw a pinched look cross her face. It was the usual uncomfortable look she got whenever those events were brought up. Then, Lydia shook her head in a wave of strawberry blonde hair. 

“We’re going to be late for English,” Lydia announced before turning down the hall. Stiles hurried after her as the group split apart. They made it to the classroom just as the bell rang. Stiles quickly slid into his seat beside Scott as Mrs. Morrison stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. He pulled out his notebook and thoughts of Ennis slipped away.

He was almost able to pretend that things were back to normal for the rest of the day. Classes were uneventful. He was actually keeping up with the team at lacrosse practice. Well, he couldn’t quite keep up with Scott or Isaac when they forgot to hold themselves back, but he could keep up with the rest of the team and that was an accomplishment for him. His magic gave him more energy and all the running he did had given him more stamina. He wasn’t even really that tired after practice, despite the constant drills.

Stiles lingered with Scott as they changed. “I realized today that I don’t know when Allison’s birthday is,” Scott admitted in a whisper. “Does that make me a bad boyfriend?”

“No,” Stiles said with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t think she ever actually told anyone.” He tried to remember if he’d gotten that information when he was looking into the Argent family. Stiles winced. “It was January 31st,” he said, “right after Boyd got taken.” He frowned as he thought back over the week. Allison definitely hadn’t said anything, and he really didn’t blame her considering everything that had been going on. Then he brightened. He slapped Scott on the chest. “Dude, that was the night we took her Thai food and stuff and watched movies. We totally celebrated her birthday without even realizing it.”

Scott perked up a little bit at that. He pulled out his phone. “I’m going to set a reminder so we can do something really special next year,” he said. “Like maybe a trip or something…”

Whatever else Scott was going to say was lost when Jackson slammed Scott’s locker closed, startling both of them. “Alright, little man,” Jackson said, leaning in close to Scott. “How about you tell me where you and Lahey are getting your juice?”

Stiles looked around quickly and saw that the room was thankfully empty. Stiles had a sudden feeling of dread because he could tell where this was going. He cursed internally and tried to think up a plausible excuse for Scott’s new lacrosse skills. Scott, though, just had on his adorably confused puppy face. “What?” Scott said with obvious confusion.

Jackson slammed a hand against Scott’s locker. “Where are you getting your juice?” He repeated, enunciating each word.

“My mom does all the grocery shopping,” Scott answered. Stiles wasn’t sure if he wanted to facepalm or break out laughing. Jackson, however, did not appear to be amused.

“Now, listen McCall,” Jackson said, leaning in even further. “You’re gonna tell me exactly what it is and who you’re buying it from, because there’s no way in hell you’re out there kicking ass on the field like that without some sort of chemical boost.”

Understanding dawned on Scott’s face. “Oh, you mean steroids.” Then, the confused look returned, mixed with a bit of concern. “Are you on steroids?”

Jackson snapped. He grabbed Scott’s jersey and pushed him back against the lockers. “What the hell is going on with you and Lahey, McCall?”

Stiles surged forward. He shoved Jackson backwards, putting himself between Scott and Jackson. “Dude,” he said, “back off. You know as well as I do that Scott’s too sweet and innocent to ever be able to even find a drug dealer, let along buy them.” Jackson didn’t look convinced, so Stiles plowed on. “We’ve been doing extra practices with Nicholas Hale,” Stiles lied with a roll of his eyes. “You know, the guy that took us to the playoffs three years in a row.” 

“You think you’re funny, don’t you, Stilinski?” Jackson practically growled before backing off. He pointed a finger at both of them. “I know you’re hiding something, McCall, and I know you’re in on it, Stilinski. I’m gonna find out what it is. I don’t care how long it takes.” Jackson stormed off, slamming the door behind him. 

Silence reigned for several long moments while they both got over their shock at the confrontation. Stiles’s breath escaped from him in a long sigh before he turned and banged his head against the locker. “That’s not going to bite us in the ass,” he muttered.

*************

Friday he and Scott were both handed slips of paper with their own appointments with the guidance counselor for the following week. Stiles set a reminder in his phone and promptly forgot about it in favor of lacrosse practice and then getting ready for Lydia’s party. Scott was getting a ride from Allison, so Stiles swung by to pick up the Beta trio.

Lydia greeted them at the door, graciously accepting the gift cards the Betas handed her. She blinked in surprise at the slim jewelry box that Stiles handed her. The necklace inside was one that Alison had helped him pick out, matching pieces that Lydia already owned. But, Stiles had added his own personal touch, carving protection runes inconspicuously into the back and embedding charms into the chain and pendant. He had similar pieces in the works for Erica, Allison, and the Hale girls, though it would take him a few more days to finish them since he didn’t want to blow through all of his magic at once. He was still working out keychains or something like that for the guys in the group, but hadn’t quite decided what would be best yet. 

Lydia gave him a genuine smile when she opened the box. Her shoulders relaxed just a little bit, as if she could subconsciously sense that it would make her safer. “Thank you,” she said softly before turning to set the gifts aside in a pile by the stairs. Then, her attention was called away by another group arriving. Stiles followed Erica and the others as they drifted out to the patio. Erica didn’t hesitate as she led the way through the crowd straight to where the others were gathered. Scott, Allison, and Cora were already sitting in one of the far corners of the patio. They’d settled in a group of chairs near the back wall, away from the pool where everyone was gathered, but still close enough to hear the music playing in the yard. Scott and Allison were curled up in one of the huge lounge chairs while Cora had claimed the padded bench near them. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac dropped down to claim the wicker couch completing the circle of seating. Stiles had to smile a little bit as the pack drew together. It was like there was something right with the world now. The only one they were missing was their Alpha.

“Stiles,” a voice greeted right behind him, making him jump and flail. He turned quickly to find Derek there. Derek grinned at him in a way that made Stiles suspect that the werewolf had done it on purpose. Stiles glanced around quickly. No one else was close to their group. He poked Derek in the chest and added a touch of spark to shock the man. He chuckled at Derek’s affronted look, even as he danced away to slide onto the bench next to Cora.

“How’d you manage to get him out the house?” he asked Cora in a stage whisper. 

Derek’s eyebrows drew down in a frown and Stiles had to bite back another chuckle. Cora had no such problems. She cackled as she leaned back into Stiles’s shoulder. “I pointed out that his pack would be here,” Cora said. Stiles glanced at Derek. He actually did look a little bit uncomfortable, but he was trying, so Stiles had to give him points for that. Stiles leaned back against the wall surrounding the yard. He casually threw an arm around Cora’s shoulders, willing to be her cushion for the night. He glanced around the patio as the crowd started to grow. Stiles thought he caught Jackson staring at them at one point, but when he looked back the man was gone. He heard the others start talking about a band that was playing at a club downtown next weekend, but didn’t give it much attention, watching the crowd instead. After a few minutes, Derek relaxed and pulled over another chair to join their circle. 

Around them the party was going full swing, but Stiles had no urge to mingle. Anybody that he wanted to talk to was right here with him. He was perfectly content to sit on the bench with Cora leaning against him. Eventually he did start to get thirsty, though. Cora grumbled when he stood. “Want anything to drink?” he offered softly, trying not to interrupt the story Allison was telling about her time living in France.

“Root beer if there is any, Coke if not,” Cora replied. Stiles nodded as he carefully made his way out of their circle of chairs and through the now much more crowded patio into the kitchen. A couple people actually said hi to him as he passed, mostly members of the lacrosse team but others that were just randomly in his classes. It happened enough times that by the time he got the the kitchen he was kind of confused. But, then, he saw Lydia, talking to someone just inside the opposite doorway. She caught his eyes and gave him a small smile and suddenly he understood. Somehow, her and Cora’s combined popularity had started to leak onto him and the others. It was kind of disconcerting. Stiles quickly covered his confusion, smiled back at Lydia, and turned to raid the fridge for sodas. Lydia had, indeed, stocked Cora’s preferred root beer. He grabbed a Mountain Dew for himself. He considered the rest of the drink selection and debated being nice and grabbing drinks for everyone. In the end he pulled out a couple Cokes and balanced them precariously in his arms. He turned and hip-checked the fridge door closed.

The door slammed closed harder than he expected, rattling some of the bottles on top of the fridge. Across the room, Lydia jumped. She turned to look at him with wide eyes before the expression was quickly masked with annoyance. “Sorry,” he said with a sheepish smile. For a minute, he considered the still somewhat haunted look in Lydia’s eyes. He realized that she had been a bit more jumpy in the past month. And he didn’t think he’d ever seen her out alone, especially not at night. “We’re out on the patio, if you have a chance to come hang out,” Stiles offered softly. Something in Lydia’s expression relaxed. She nodded at him minutely before turning back to the girl she’d been talking with. 

“Here,” he said, dropping a Coke in Derek’s lap as he passed. Derek blinked at him in surprise, but caught the can easily. It took a bit of juggling, but he managed to distribute the drinks without dropping anything before sinking back down on the bench with Cora.

Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m surprised you didn’t go for the alcohol,” he said. “Isn’t that the point of these things?”

Stiles snorted and raised an eyebrow right back at him. “Pretty sure werewolves can’t get drunk, so not really much point in grabbing that kind of drink. If you really want something alcoholic, kitchen’s that way.” He took a drink of his soda as he waved his free hand in the general direction of the house. 

Derek rolled his eyes. “You and Allison can still drink if you wanted to.”

Stiles shrugged. “We both drove,” he pointed out. “Besides, do you really want someone who can light things on fire with his mind getting drunk around normal people?” Looks of horror crossed most of the others’ faces at the idea. “That’s what I thought,” Stiles said, ignoring the slightly maniacal giggling coming from Cora. She would be one to delight in chaos. He poked her in the side before she could get any ideas.

“Wait,” Isaac said, “you can actually do that?”

“Well, yeah,” Stiles replied. He turned towards Isaac and the others. They were looking at him with curiosity. Stiles realized then that they’d never actually seen him do more than shields and the linking spell. He looked around to double check that no one was closed enough to listen. He tensed when he saw Jackson watching them again. He wasn’t close enough to hear anything, but Stiles lowered his voice anyways just in case. “I mean, most of what Deaton’s been teaching me has been shields and wards and other protection stuff like that, but yeah, I can do a bit of stuff with fire and the other elements. I’ll show you next full moon.”

Derek leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “We can add it to the sparring session,” Derek said suddenly. He looked over at Scott, then at Isaac and the others. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to learn how to defend against magic users.”

“Whoa there,” Stiles said, holding up his hands as a tiny surge of panic filled him. “I’m not really that good yet. I mean the only one I’ve ever fought with magic was Ennis and that didn’t really go so well.” He waved his hand at Scott to illustrate his point. If he couldn’t even defend his best friend, he wasn’t ready to be sparing with people with fangs and claws.

“That was months ago,” Scott pointed out. He had on his ernest encouraging face and Stiles could feel his protests crumbling. “You’ve gotten a lot more practice. I’m sure you can totally kick ass now.”

“Not really,” Stiles mumbled. He would have said more, but Lydia was making her way through the crowd towards them. Stiles shot Scott a look, but he wasn’t even paying attention. Instead he was starting up a conversation with Lydia about her dog, Prada, who had apparently been acting strangely. Stiles huffed in annoyance and drowned his frustration in Mountain Dew.

*************

Stiles sighed as he flopped down on the couch in the living room. His dad raised an eyebrow at him with a small smile. “Training with Deaton not go so well?”

For a minute Stiles tensed, before relaxing back into the couch. He still wasn’t quite used to his dad knowing about magic and all that. But, his dad had actually sat down with Deaton and had a long conversation about what training entailed and how Stiles’s magic abilities worked. Stiles just hadn’t quite adjusted to the change after keeping his magic a secret for months. “It was fine,” he said. He opened up the can of pop he’d grabbed, taking a long drink before continuing. “I mean, my part was fine, but Deaton kept getting interrupted with calls and people dropping in to the clinic because their animals were acting weird.” Stiles rubbed a hand over his face. “I mean, I understand that that’s kind of his job, but Sundays are always dead. That’s why we set up the meetings a the times that we did.” Stiles let his hand fall and his head thunked back on the back of the couch. “I’d say the full moon was bringing the crazies out, but I know for a fact that the full moon is two more weeks away.”

Noah snorted. “I suppose you would know.” He stood suddenly, patting Stiles on the shoulder as he passed. “How does Chinese sound for dinner?”

Stiles smiled without moving from his slumped position. “It sounds great,” he said. He paused for a minute, thinking. “Get extra egg rolls.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw his father shaking his head. Stiles let his eyes drift closed for a minute, focusing on the sound of his father’s voice as he ordered the food. A few minutes later Noah came back into the room. 

“Looks like Deaton managed to work you enough to tire you out,” he said as he dropped back down into his chair. He heard his father pick up the remote, then the channels changing. “Is this going to be a thing from now on?”

“Probably,” Stiles admitted, flopping a hand in his dad’s general direction. “Deaton had me raising and dropping multiple shields over and over again in his office.” He turned his head to look at his dad. “I learned today that raising a shield over and over again is apparently much more exhausting than just maintaining one shield for the same amount of time. Doing it with multiple shields is even worse.” Stiles let out of long breath. He forced himself to open his eyes and sit up before he fell asleep. “I think I managed to maintain five shields at once at one point though.” He actually felt a little bit proud about that.

“That’s good,” Noah said encouragingly. “It is good, right?” His dad looked like he was trying really hard to be supportive, but he didn’t seem to fully understand all of the magic stuff yet. Stiles smiled at him. He was a little bit glad he wasn’t the only one floundering with their new sharing. Noah relaxed a little when Stiles nodded. “Are you always going to be this tired afterwards?” Noah asked, frowning a little. “Is it healthy for you?”

Stiles shrugged. “Apparently this is how my magic gets stronger,” he explained. “Gotta exercise the muscle to make it stronger or something like that.” Stiles shrugged again.

Whatever other questions his dad had were interrupted by his phone ringing. Judging by the way his dad frowned, it was work related. Stiles sat up with anticipation. Noah narrowed his eyes at him before getting up and walking into the kitchen. Stiles didn’t hesitate to scramble up and follow him. He lingered right around the corner, out of sight.

“A deer?” Noah said, pacing around in the kitchen. “And it ran straight at the car?” There was a pause while his dad listened to whoever was on the other end of the line. “Are we sure the driver wasn’t intoxicated?” Another response. “Alright, I’m on my way.” 

“Is anyone hurt?” Stiles asked as his father stepped out of the kitchen. 

Noah stopped short in the hallway to regard Stiles. “Do you listen in on all of my phone calls?” Noah asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No,” Stiles spluttered. His dad did not look impressed. “Not the boring ones,” he admitted.

Noah ran a hand over his face. “You and I are going to have a discussion about something called invasion of privacy.” He shook his head and turned towards his office to retrieve his gun from the safe.

Stiles snorted. He trailed after his father, leaning against the doorframe. “Dad, half my friends are werewolves, privacy is just an illusion.”

For a minute Noah just blinked at him, apparently at a loss for words. Then, he shook his head. He pulled out his wallet as he walked back through the house and handed Stiles a couple twenties. “Save me something,” he said as he reached for his coat. “I want at least one of those egg rolls.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I promise,” he said as he followed his dad to the door. “Be safe.” He hesitated at the door, watching his father get into the cruiser and drive away for a minute before shutting the door. 

He flopped down on the couch and picked up the remote. Stiles idly flipped through the channels. Eventually he settled on some nature documentary for lack of anything else catching his interest. He pulled out his phone and was surprised to see a message waiting for him.

From: Beam Me Up Scotty

_I think Jackson has been following me?_

Stiles felt a little surge of panic when he read the message. He ran a hand over his face. “I knew that asshole was going to cause problems,” he muttered to himself. He quickly typed out a response.

To: Beam Me Up Scotty

_What!? Really?_  
Like all weekend?  
You didn’t do anything out of the usual did you? 

He was prevented from continuing to spam Scott by the doorbell ringing. Stiles paid the delivery man and set the Chinese food out of the kitchen table. He grabbed a container of lo mein and some of the egg rolls before wandering back into the living room. Stiles took a few quick bites to stave off his hunger before picking up the phone again.

From: Beam Me Up Scotty

_I keep noticing his porsche parked wherever I go._  
Like it was outside the clinic and at Allison’s. I think he followed us on our date too? Not really sure.  
Just did normal stuff all weekend. Nothing pack related. 

Stiles let out a sigh of relief and settled back into the couch. He munched on the egg rolls while he thought. He supposed that wasn’t too bad. Maybe Jackson would realize how utterly boring and innocent Scott was and give up on his obsession. The Hales would be able to spot him lurking if he followed Scott to their house, but if Jackson kept his stalking up long enough, eventually Scott would probably slip up. Or, if not him, one of the other Betas who hadn’t had as long to learn control. Stiles ran a hand over his face before picking up his phone again.

To: Beam Me Up Scotty

_I guess just keep an eye out for now. Hopefully he’ll get bored._

Stiles got up and grabbed another container of Chinese food. He sat on the couch and let the documentary continue to play as he considered the Jackson problem. If this continued, he’d either have to talk to the Hales about giving Jackson the werewolf reveal or finding some way to threaten him off. He knew that Jackson had the potential to become a werewolf based on his aura, but he also had the potential to become something else and Stiles did not get a good feeling about the lizard-like part of his aura. He knew if Jackson knew about werewolves, he’d want to become one and that could potentially be bad. Plus, if Jackson knew then there’d be no way to keep it from Lydia, who was also… something. Stiles groaned as he felt a headache coming on. He pushed thoughts of Jackson aside for now, concentrating on finishing his food so he could go pass out in bed.

*************

Stiles stopped short as he stepped into the guidance counselor’s office Monday morning. Even without shifting his vision, he could sense something was off about the woman sitting behind the desk. He pulled the door shut behind him, but didn’t move away from it. He blinked and his vision shifted. The woman had a faint aura of power, like when Deaton was shielded. She smiled at him and her shields faded, as if she were letting him get a sense of her power. She had the aura of a Druid.

He blinked to clear his vision and sank down into the chair in front of the desk. “So,” he said, drawing out the word. “Are you a good witch or a bad witch?” The woman’s lips twitched into a hint of a smile. “Well, Druid,” Stile corrected, “but the question still applies.”

The woman, Marin Morrell, according to the nameplate on her desk, smiled even wider. “I’m glad to see that my brother hasn’t been exaggerating your gifts,” she said. Stiles felt his eyes widen a bit in surprise, but Morrell continued before he could ask. “And, I’m afraid the answer to your question is quite complicated. Good and bad are highly arbitrary and Druids are charged with maintaining balance. I suppose you could say that I am a neutral entity, though for your purposes ‘good’ will suffice.”

“Huh.” Stiles leaned back in the chair and considered the woman in front of him. “You’re Deaton’s sister?” He considered the woman for a moment. “Are you an Emissary also?”

Morrell looked surprised for a brief second before her pleased smile came back. “I am,” she said, “though I’ve taken a temporary leave from my pack.”

Stiles frowned at her. “Why would you do that?” he asked, leaning forwards. “I thought Emissaries weren’t supposed to leave their Alphas?”

Morrell leaned forward so that her elbows rested on the table. “While most Emissaries don't travel on their own, there’s no restriction against it. I have my Alpha’s permission to be here while my pack is elsewhere.”

“Huh,” Stiles said. He leaned back in his chair, letting his limbs relax. “And what exactly brought you here?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Because I doubt you would leave your pack just to listen to a bunch of high school kids whine about their problems.”

Amusement danced in Morrell’s eyes, though her expression never changed from the polite smile she wore. “Well, I am certified as a counselor,” she said, “so I am quite qualified to help the students at this school.” She paused for a second, considering him. “But you are correct, that isn’t what drew me to Beacon Hills. I came to confirm some rumors.” Her eyes were intense as she spoke to him, her focus narrowed in on him. It took him a moment to figure out the meaning behind what she said.

“Me?” he squeaked, sitting up straight in his chair. “I’m the rumor?”

Morrell nodded briefly. “One of them, yes.” She leaned back in her chair and folded her hands in her lap. “Sparks of your talent are rather rare,” she said. “Like my brother, I’m quite interested in seeing how much your power grows.” Morrell opened one of her drawers to pull out a thin leather bound book. She slid the book over the desk towards him. Stiles didn’t hesitate before picking it up. 

When he flipped open the pages, he found that it was much like the little leather bound book he’d found at the library. That one had been something of a beginner’s primer and he’d finished mastering the few spells in it months ago. This one was more advanced. He thought he even recognized the writing, like it had been made by the same person. Like the other book, this one also mentioned werewolves. It referenced the linking spell from the previous book, but also had what looked to be spells for protections for the entire pack. And there was a whole section on different runes that could be used for wards and stuff. He looked up at Morrell with wide eyes. “Can I borrow this?”

Morrell chuckled at him. “You can keep it,” she said. Her smile grew a bit wider, more genuine at what must be an expression of sheer joy on his face. “I know that you don’t have the same limitations that we Druids do,” Morrell said, “so perhaps that book will help you in your studies.”

Stiles started to slip the book into his bag, but hesitated. “Why?” He looked back up at Morrell. “Why give this to me?”

His question seemed to surprise the woman, but she didn’t look offended. If anything, she looked a little pleased by his skepticism. “Consider it an investment,” Morrell said. “Not just from me, but from my Alpha. A powerful Spark can be a considerable ally and, while I hope that we will never be in a situation to need outside aid, it doesn’t hurt to have friends to turn to.”

Stiles considered the woman for a minute before nodding. He carefully put the book in his bag. “Thank you,” he said softly. He looked around her office for a minute. “Did you actually want to talk to me about anything else, or was the appointment just a formality?”

Morrell leaned back in her chair. “I did want to see how you were handling your recent… trauma,” she said with a slight twitch of her lips. He had a feeling she knew more about the event than the papers reported, probably thanks to Deaton. “Your friends were very circumspect about it, but perhaps you’d be willing to give me the full story.”

He leaned back in his chair, mirroring her posture while he tried to decide what to say. “A bite-happy Alpha werewolf came to town stalking the Argents and trying to draw out Gerard. He kidnapped a couple kids to add to his pack - Scott, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd. Then the local pack and I found him and killed him. Problem solved.”

“By local pack, you mean the Hales?” Morrell asked. She continued at Stiles’s nod. “And Talia killed the Alpha?”

“Derek did, actually,” Stiles admitted. A look of surprise crossed Morrell’s face before it was quickly replaced by her mask of calm. 

“And how are you dealing with all of this?”

Stiles shrugged. “My magic recovered fine and I got a bit of a level up, so to speak, out of the whole mess.” He shrugged again. “The pack’s doing pretty good overall I think.” Stiles startled as the bell rang, signalling the change in classes. He started to gather up his things and head towards the door.

“Stiles,” Morrell called before he could reach the handle. Stiles turned to the look at the woman. Her expression was quite grim. “If Gerard is here, be careful. Not only is that man dangerous himself, but he has dangerous enemies who won’t hesitate to use you if they find out about your magic.”

“Noted,” Stiles said, with a bit more confidence than he felt. He nodded to the counselor before slipping out of the office and into the milling crowd of teenagers. He moved on autopilot, his mind already racing through the implications of Morrell’s words and the next steps to protect himself and the pack.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite Morrell’s warning, things stayed relatively normal. He checked in with Allison and learned that Gerard was still around, but seemed to be keeping mostly to himself. His dad got a couple calls about animals acting weird, but nothing really interesting. The only unusual thing that Stiles noticed was Jackson, who continued to follow Scott around like an obnoxious shadow. It was getting to the point that the others were even noticing. Lydia just rolled her eyes whenever she caught Jackson at it and usually proceeded to drag him off to impromptu shopping trips to distract him. The rest of the pack found it amusing and mostly chose to ignore Jackson in favor of concentrating on passing their midterms. 

The only one it really seemed to bother was Scott, who seemed to take personal offense to Jackson’s continued insinuation that he was doing some sort of drugs. Maybe it was the stress of cramming for midterms or just adjusting to werewolfy powers, but whatever the reason, Scott was definitely not amused by Jackson’s stalking. Stiles could practically see the anger boiling in Scott, so he really wasn’t surprised when Scott turned suddenly and pushed Jackson against the wall. Stiles flinched, but it seemed like Scott had remembered to hold back his strength despite his anger. He looked around quickly. Thankfully, it was just the three of them in the hallway near the locker rooms.

Jackson just gave Scott an unimpressed look and brushed his hand away. 

“What the hell is your problem?” Scott shouted. “Why do you hate me so much that you have to keep following me everywhere I go!?”

“I don’t hate you,” Jackson said, in a smug tone. He leaned forward into Scott’s space. “I just don’t believe you. You’ve got everyone thinking everything’s fine and normal about you, but I know something’s off.”

“Jackson, don’t you think you’re being a bit paranoid?” Stiles suggested. He stepped forward to rest a hand on Scott’s back. All it took was a thought for the magical bond between them to activate and his calm to rush into Scott. He felt Scott take in a deep breath as he relaxed.

“Dude, I’m not taking steroids,” Scott said in a much calmer voice. “I don’t know what to do to get me to believe you. My mom’s a nurse. She works in the ER, where they treat people who overdose all the time. Don’t you think she’d be the first person to notice the signs of anything like that? She would flip out.”

Jackson’s eyes narrowed. For a brief second Stiles had a flash of hope that maybe they’d gotten through his thick skill. But then Jackson’s resolve face made an appearance. “I don’t know if it’s steroids or something weirder,” Jackson said. He looked away for a minute before continuing. “I’m guessing something weirder, since it’s pretty obvious that you’re a freak. So, don’t think for a second I’ve given up on finding out what your little secret is.”

“I don’t have any secrets,” Scott protested. 

“Yeah, you do.” If anything Jackson looked more determined every time Scott denied it and Stiles felt something like dread fill him. “And here’s the other thing. I don’t know why, but I’m guessing Derek Hale has something to do with it too.” A bit of surprise must have shown on Stiles’s face, because Jackson’s expression became triumphant. “I will find out what it is.” With that vague sort of threat delivered, Jackson surged forward, pushing between them and continuing down the hall.

Stiles ran a hand over his face and heaved a put upon sigh. He exchanges glances with Scott, who looked just as surprised as Stiles. Stiles clapped a hand on Scott’s shoulder and turned him towards the locker room. “Come on, we’re already late for practice. I’ll talk to the Hales about Jackson later.”

Scott nodded and together they made their way into the locker room. The rest of the team was already on the field, so they quickly changed and headed outside. Coach was not pleased with their late appearance. He sent the whole team running sprints as soon as Scott, Jackson, and Stiles reached the field. By the time practice was over, even Scott and Isaac were worn out. Stiles was barely managing to stay upright as the team lurched back into the locker room. As soon as he was inside, Stiles slumped down onto one of the benches. Scott was there beside him, looking almost as tired. They barely even had a moment to breathe before Finstock came thundering into the room.

“Listen up!” Coach called, making all of their heads snap up to attention. “We’ve got the semi-finals coming up next weekend. I want to see each and every one one of you here every practice. I don’t care if you’re sick or missing a limb or dead, your butts are on the field. No exceptions!” He gave a pointed look around the room. 

“Another thing,” Finstock continued, “from here on out, effective immediately, we’re switching to co-captains. Congratulations, McCall.”

“What?” Jackson said, springing to his feet.

“What do you mean what?” Finstock said. “Jackson, this takes nothing away from you.” He turned to look at Jackson full on. “This is about combining separate strengths into one unit. This is about taking your unit and McCall’s unit. We’re making one big unit. McCall, it’s you and Jackson now.” Scott looked up at Coach with something akin to dread on his face. “Everybody else…” Finstock blew his whistle, startling Stiles. “Get out of here.”

“Dude, can you believe this?” Stiles said, bubbling over with glee. “You’re a captain. I’m finally on first line and you’re a captain. This is freaking amazing!” Then he caught sight of the murderous expression on Jackson’s face. “Okay, maybe not so amazing,” he quickly revised. 

Jackson turned to glare at them before stalking over to his locker to change. Stiles exchanged a glance with Scott before pushing himself up to his feet with a groan. He felt like his bones were creaking as he made his way over to his locker and slowly changed out of his uniform. By the time he was dressed again, Jackson was gone. Stiles exchanged a glance at Scott as they gathered up their things. 

The hallways were empty as they walked through the school, but Scott kept his voice low when he finally spoke up. “Dude,” Scott hissed, “what are we going to do about Jackson? He’s going to be even more psychotic now.”

Stiles considered the question in silence for a few minutes. They had to do something. Jackson was becoming downright obsessed and there was no telling what the guy would do. Sure, he had been slightly more tolerable since Stiles and Scott had started hanging out with Lydia and the rest of their group, but deep down Jackson was still kind of a selfish jackass at heart. He wanted to know what changed with Scott so that he could get it for himself. But, the only people who could turn Jackson were Talia or Derek. Stiles absentmindedly stowed his gear in the back of his Jeep as he considered that idea.

“What if we just told him?” Stiles suggested as he buckled himself into the driver’s seat. 

Scott turned to look at him so fast that Stiles was worried he’d hurt himself. “What!?” 

Stiles paused with the key in the ignition. He let his hand fall away as he turned to Scott. “What if we told him what was going on,” he repeated. “Lydia too.” He turned away and started the Jeep when all Scott did was stare at him like he’d gone insane. Stiles waited until they were out onto the street until he spoke again. “Look, Jackson is just going to keep at it until he finds out. He’s annoyingly stubborn like that. And Lydia is… something. Not just has the potential to be something, but like actually some kind of supernatural something that is not a werewolf. And Jackson has the potential to be a werewolf or a… something else.” Stiles shrugged. 

“So, what, I just go up to Jackson and go ‘Hey, we’re all werewolves now.’” Stiles could hear the skepticism in Scott’s voice without having to glance over to see his expression. “And somehow that’s not going to backfire in our faces?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles snapped back. He took a deep breath and tried to rein in his annoyance. He was frustrated with the situation and Jackson, not Scott. “But it’s the only solution I can think of. So, I think it’s time we asked the experts.”

“Experts?”

Stiles snorted when he glanced over and saw the confused look on Scott’s face. He put the Jeep into park and waved his hand at the Hale house in front of them. A look of understanding dawned on Scott’s face. Together they climbed out of the Jeep and made their way up the walkway to the large porch. 

Cora opened the door for them before they could reach for the handle. “What are you losers doing here?” There was a hint of teasing in her tone as she held the door open for them to come inside. 

Stiles rolled his eyes and made sure to nudge her shoulder as he walked past. “Here to see your mom,” he explained. He continued at Cora’s raised eyebrow. “It’s about werewolfy business.”

“Oh.” Cora looked surprised for a second before her gaze went distant. She and Scott both looked like they were listening to something Stiles couldn’t hear. “She says she’ll be down in a minute if you want to chill in the living room,” Cora relayed a moment later. She brushed past them, giving Stiles a nudge of her own, and headed into the living room herself. 

Laura was already sprawled on the living room couch, doing something on her phone, but she sat up when the three of them entered the room. Stiles sank down in one of the chairs before rising to his feet again and starting to pace along the wall. He caught Peter slipping into the room as he was trying to get his arguments for why they should tell Jackson and Lydia straight in his head. 

Talia strode into the room a few moments later with Derek and David at her sides. The assembled Hales were regarding him curiously, though Talia at least gave him a warm smile. “What can I do for you boys?”

Stiles stopped mid-pace and turned to regard the room full of werewolves who were suddenly staring right at him. Even Scott was looking at him expectantly. Stiles swallowed nervously as all of his carefully prepared reasoning flew out the window. “I think we should tell Jackson and Lydia about werewolves,” he blurted out instead.

The looks of surprise around the room were not unexpected. Peter and Talia were relatively calm, with just a quirked eyebrow and a slight widening of the eyes to show their surprise. Cora was more demonstrative, looking at Stiles like he’d lost his mind. Slowly, Talia sank down into the loveseat across the room. The others seemed to take that as a cue to sit as well, though whether they were settling in for a serious discussion or whether they waiting for Stiles to do something else crazy, he couldn’t tell. 

“Jackson Whittemore and Lydia Martin?” Talia asked. “Your classmates?” She continued at Stiles’s nod. “I know you’re friends, but knowledge of the supernatural is not something that we share lightly. The danger of exposure is something that we take very seriously.” 

“I know,” Stiles broke in before Talia could get too far into what was probably shaping up to be a truly epic lecture. “Trust me, Deaton already gave me the talk about Hunters and all the various creatures that prey on other supernatural creatures.” Talia’s lips pursed and it was obvious that she didn’t believe that he was taking the threat seriously. “Did you know that there’s not one, but two whole Hunting families who would be more than happy to stab me in the heart just because I have magic,” he said conversationally, adding a little wave of his hand and a puff of flame. “Not to mention the vampires and wendigos that apparently view magic users as delicacies. Or the Darachs, Necromancers, Blood Mages, and Dark Fae that would love to drain my magic and use my innards for some particularly pleasant rituals.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw looks of horror on Scott and the younger Hales’ faces. “Trust me. I understand the risk not only to you all, but to myself as well. Deaton’s warned me. His sister warned me. All the books have warned me. You’ve warned me now too. So, when I say that I think we should tell Jackson and Lydia, I’m not just suggesting it for shits and giggles.”

“Deaton has a sister?” Scott interjected into the silence after the end of Stiles’s diatribe. 

Stiles had to resist the urge to facepalm. “That’s what you took away from all of that?” he asked, turning towards his best friend. “Yes, he has a sister. You’ve met her. Morrell, the new guidance counselor?” It took a second, but recognition dawned on Scott’s face. He opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by Peter.

“Marin Morrell is in town?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles answered slowly. “Like I said, she’s the guidance counselor at school now.”

Peter raised an eyebrow at that. “Did she happen to mention if any of her pack was here with her?” His voice was deceptively calm. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes that Stiles had never seen before.

Stiles swallowed nervously. “She said…” Stiles licked his lips as he tried to recall the exact words she’d used when they’d talked. “She took a temporary leave from the pack.” Peter relaxed slightly. 

“And did she happen to mention what brought her to Beacon Hills?” Peter pressed, leaning forward slightly.

He blushed and looked away, not really wanting to admit that he was the reason that she’d come here. He glanced at the others, but they were all waiting for his answer. “Uh…” He closed his mouth again before the truth could slip out. Stiles shook his head slightly as if that would clear away his embarrassment. “Nothing important,” he said quickly. “She’s not here to cause problems. She said she’s, like, a neutral entity or something like that.”

“And you believed her?” Peter’s eyebrows were clearly conveying judgement and Stiles bristled.

“I do,” he said, resuming his pacing. “She’s a Druid. We’re like magic bros.” Apparently that was not a sufficient reason based on the look on Peter’s face. “And I saw her aura,” he defended. “It didn’t give me the creeps like some do.” Stiles shook his head, trying to shake off the memory of Gerard’s aura. “It doesn’t matter. We were talking about Jackson and Lydia.” 

Thankfully, Talia seemed to be willing to let the subject drop. “Okay, Stiles,” she said softly. “Why don’t you explain your reasoning to us?”

“Okay,” he agreed. He glanced over at Scott. That seemed to be as good of a place to start as any. “Jackson’s noticed Scott’s new athletic power up. Isaac’s too. He’s been following Scott around trying to figure out what changed. He thought it was steroids at first, but now he seems open to other possibilities.”

“Dude is flat out stalking me,” Scott chimed in. Stiles had to bite back on the ‘finally’ that wanted to spill from his lips. Now the guy was helping. Instead Stiles just waved his hands in Scott’s direction.

“Like, I love Scott like a bro, but dude can’t keep a secret,” Stiles said. He continued on over Scott’s offended protest. “It’s only a matter of time before he catches Scott or Isaac flash their eyes at a lacrosse game. Or Erica or Boyd. Like, their control is pretty good, but it’s not perfect. They’ve been werewolves for a whole month.”

Looking around the room, he saw the assembled Hales giving small nods of agreement. “And the dude’s a stubborn asshole,” Stiles continued. Laura gave an amused snort. “He’s not just going to give up. The more people who tell him that there’s nothing different with Scott, the more likely he is to be certain that there is something we’re hiding. And that’s not even counting in Lydia. I don’t think he’s mentioned his obsession to her yet, but she knows something is up. Jackson’s not really as subtle as he thinks he is. Lydia was taken by Ennis too, so she’s already got half the puzzle. She’s, like, a genius, so it won’t take her long at all to figure the whole werewolf thing out if she really decides that she wants to know.” He looked over to Cora and Scott for support and they both nodded dutifully.

“That is a problem,” Talia agreed. Her voice was calm and even. Something about it stalled the growing panic in Stiles. It was kind of reassuring that she was actually taking him seriously now. She glanced around the room before turning her attention back to Stiles. “And how do you think they’ll take the news of werewolves?”

Stiles felt his lips twitch in a brief bit of amusement. “Lydia will learn everything she can about it, but she’ll be careful as well. She’ll use the knowledge to protect herself.” Stiles rubbed a hand through his hair. He really should think about buzzing it soon. It was getting a bit longer than he normally kept it. 

“And Jackson?” 

“Jackson will want the bite,” Stiles admitted. “He’ll want it so he can go back to being the lacrosse star, better than everyone else. And he’ll be an ass about it if you tell him no.”

Peter shifted and suddenly there were claws at the ends of his fingertips. His lips twitched into a smirk, but the amusement didn’t reach his eyes. “Then Mr. Whittemore may find himself coming down with selective amnesia.”

Beside him, Scott looked horrified, and Stiles kind of was too, but he was really more curious. “You can do that?”

Peter’s stance relaxed slightly. He gave Stiles a small smile as his claws retracted. “I cannot,” Peter said, “but an Alpha can.” Peter reached out a hand to rest his fingertips lightly on the back of Derek’s neck before Derek batted him away. “An Alpha’s claws, sunk deep into the neck, can be used to sort through memories, either to access memories that might be repressed or to take away memories to protect the pack.” 

“Huh.” Stiles’s hand twitched with the urge to brush against the back of his own neck. That actually sounded both terrifying and fascinating. Before he could get too lost in the thought he shook himself. “Anyways, Lydia’s a something, so if she doesn’t already know about the supernatural, which I don’t think she does, then she probably should so we can help her figure out what kind of something she is.”

There was a beat of silence. Then, Derek broke into his thoughts with a “What!?”

Stiles went back over what he’d said in his mind. “Her aura,” he clarified. “She has one. It’s dark green and billowy like a dress. Deaton and I have no idea what it means, but we both agree that it means that she’s some sort of supernatural… something,” he finished lamely. He met Derek’s unimpressed look with a sheepish grin. “Like I said, no idea what it means, except that it’s not faint like the werewolf one was before the betas got bitten. It’s solid, so whatever it is that she is, she already is it.” He paused when he realized how eloquent that did not come out. Stiles sighed and shook his head. He really needed some Adderal. Or sleep. 

“I think what Stiles is trying to say,” Scott jumped in, “is that Lydia deserves to know about the supernatural because she is a supernatural being herself. And Jackson had an aura too, right Stiles?”

“Right.” Stiles bit his lip, trying to remember the aura. “He has the potential to become a werewolf,” he said. “And that didn’t go away after Ennis left.”

“So,” Laura began slowly, “you’re saying that Jackson is destined to become a werewolf eventually?”

“Yes,” Stiles replied. Then he thought better of his answer. “And no.” He hastily continued before the Hales could interrupt. “He has the potential to become a wolf, but he has the potential to become something else as well.” Stiles shrugged. “I have it written down in my notebook at home, but Deaton didn’t recognize the description for that one either.” He shrugged again at the raised eyebrow from Derek. “Sorry,” he muttered softly. “Not really a manual on that kind of thing.”

“It’s okay, Stiles,” Talia cut in before he could start to feel too self-conscious. She looked around the room at the gathered Hales. “We don’t have to make a decision tonight,” she continued after a moment. “Why don’t we all take some time to think about it and we can discuss it as a pack on the full moon.” She turned to look at Scott and Stiles. “Do you think you can keep Jackson in the dark for a few more days?”

Scott and Stiles both nodded. After all, the full moon was coming up on Tuesday. All they had to do was get through the weekend and two school days. Stiles glanced over at Peter. He was actually kind of relieved that either way the problem was going to get taken care of. Talia pulled them both into hugs and Derek clapped them on the back, then Laura was drawing them into the dining room to stay for dinner. Stiles actually managed to relax by the time the rest of the family was coming home and they all settled down at the table. And, when he got home he found that one of the Hales’ books on magic had been slipped into his backpack. He found himself smiling as he settled on his bed and let magic distract him from everything else.


	3. Chapter 3

Tuesday morning found Stiles waiting at the entrance to the school. While he trusted that whatever training the betas had been doing with the Hales on the weekends was helping, today was only their second full moon with the pack and Stiles wanted to offer them the help of the linking spell if they wanted it. Erica was the first to arrive. She pulled Stiles into a hug as he reactivated the spell and he could feel her relief through their bond. Isaac and Boyd were less demonstrative, but they accepted his help. He set their bonds with brief claps on the shoulder. They walked into school together and out of the corner of his eye Stiles caught Jackson watching them. 

Despite the looming full moon, the school day was quiet. Midterms were over and done with, so there was nothing out of the ordinary to cause them stress. They met up again at lunch, where the only odd thing was Jackson’s failed attempts at pretending not to be watching them. After school they piled into Stiles’s Jeep and Allison’s car to head over to the Hale house under the pretense of working on a group project. Stiles saw Jackson’s car following them, but he wasn’t that worried about it. The betas were all perfectly under control, so if Jackson wanted to sit in the woods while they had dinner and watched movies, Stiles wasn’t going to stop him. Instead, he found himself pondering a different problem.

“What about the parents?” he blurted out as he was loading his plate with an obscene amount of pasta. Around him the others paused to stare at him. “Scott’s mom, Isaac’s foster parents, Boyd and Erica’s families?” Stiles clarified. “Shouldn’t we tell them about the whole werewolf thing? I mean, it’s only so long that we can make up excuses for weekday sleepovers before it becomes an issue.” He waved a hand at Erica. “And, I mean, Erica’s parents are probably going to notice when they don’t need to refill her seizure meds.”

Talia set down her utensils, but waved her hand dismissively when the rest of the Hales started to do the same. The passing of food resumed, but much more quietly while they waited for the Alpha to speak. “David and Peter have been feeling the other parents out,” Talia said with a nod to her husband and brother. “Neither has come up with any reasons why the families should not be told, but I would like your opinions as well.” Talia turned to look at the betas then, giving them a reassuring smile. “Whatever you’re comfortable with is fine.”

Stiles and the rest of the table turned to look at Scott, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica. The four betas were silent for a long minute while they looked at each other to seemingly decide who was going to answer first. Then Scott spoke up. “I’m okay with my mom being told,” Scott said simply. “I mean, she’s probably going to freak out.” Scott glanced over at Stiles who only raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay,” Scott amended, “she’s definitely going to freak out. But, I think she’ll also be relieved that she doesn’t have to worry about me having asthma attacks anymore.”

“I’d like my parents to know too,” Erica said. “I don’t want them wasting money on drugs and doctors that they don’t have to.”

“Of course,” Talia said with a small smile. “Peter will provide them with documents for your ‘experimental therapy’ out of town to appease your doctors.” Stiles glanced over at Peter and had to be impressed. The older man just raised an eyebrow at him with a small smirk. Stiles resisted the urge to shake his head. There was another long moment of silence as they all began to slowly eat. 

“I’d prefer not to tell my foster parents,” Isaac said in between bites of garlic bread. “They’re nice enough people, but I’m not really… I don’t…”

“That’s fine, Isaac,” Derek spoke up. He reached across Boyd to rest a hand on Isaac’s shoulder. The tiny thread of worry that had been coming down Stiles’s bond with Isaac disappeared. 

The rest of the table turned to look at Boyd. But the man just shrugged. “I don’t mind,” he said eventually. Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but it wasn’t a no either.

Talia looked around the table one more time before nodding. She picked up her fork and took a few bites of salad before speaking again. “Now, as to the matter of Ms. Martin and Mr. Whittemore,” Talia said. She turned to look at Isaac, Boyd, and Erica, who were clearly surprised. “Stiles has suggested that we tell them about the existence of werewolves.” All of a sudden the three betas were staring at him instead. Their looks did not speak of confidence in his sanity.

“Jackson’s been stalking Scott,” he explained. “He’s going to figure it out eventually. He’s probably out there right now.”

“He is,” Peter confirmed with a small smile. “He’s hiding just around the turn with a pair of binoculars. He brought a simple listening device too, but for some reason it’s not working.” Peter’s eyes lit up with an unholy amount of glee. Stiles wasn’t sure whether he wanted to know or if it was better to maintain plausible deniability. 

“Anyways, Lydia is some sort of supernatural being, though I’m not sure what,” Stiles continued. “I think she deserves to know that, if she doesn’t already. And if she does, then she could be a good ally.” He saw some of the others starting to nod a little bit, which gave him the courage to continue. “Remember how I knew you guys were going to be turned because I saw that you had the potential to become a werewolf? The faint wolf aura? Well, Jackson still has that, but it’s, like… fainter?” 

Stiles grimaced as he tried to figure out how to explain the aura when he didn’t even really understand it himself. “Like if we hadn’t stepped in, Ennis probably was going to take Jackson next. But we did, so he didn’t get turned, but he still might in the future?” Stiles shrugged. “The problem is, it’s not just the werewolf aura because his flickers with something else… Something lizard-like that Deaton didn’t recognize.” 

Peter looked particularly interested in that, but Stiles cut him off before he had a chance to ask. “That’s not the point right now. The point is that I think that the aura means that Jackson is, like, destined to find out about werewolves and we can either give him the knowledge in a controlled environment or he’ll probably go and seek it out on his own and that will most likely come back to bite us in the ass.” Stiles’s breath left him in a whoosh once he got all of that out. He looked around the table at the others to try to gauge their reactions.

“Does anyone have any objections?” Talia asked, looking around the table. 

The others looked at each other for a moment, shrugging. “He’s a bit of an ass,” Isaac said, “but probably not that bad.” 

Talia appeared to be suppressing a smile, taking a bite of pasta to cover her amusement. She chewed and swallowed before speaking. “Any objections?” When no one spoke up, Talia nodded. She turned to look at Stiles. “How about you invite them over this weekend? We can talk to them and they can observe Derek’s training session on Saturday.”

Stiles felt a thrill of accomplishment. He’d expected to have to argue more, but wasn’t going to complain with the pack’s quick decision. He smiled as he watched Derek look up in surprise. The man’s features smoothed over a moment later and he nodded. Derek looked over at Stiles and their eyes met. For a minute Stiles was struck with how many different colors there were in Derek's eyes, greens and browns and little bits of yellow. “I’m okay with that,” Derek said with a small smile. Stiles had a moment to appreciate how much a genuine smile changed Derek’s features. Then Derek continued. “You can join us too, Stiles,” Derek said. Stiles felt his heart drop and he started to shake his head, but Derek continued on. “We talked about adding your magic into the sparring sessions.”

“That’s really not a good idea,” Stiles said quickly, but once again his protests seemed to be ignored. The rest of the pack seemed to be excited by the idea and their chatter drowned out his protests. Stiles exchanged a look with Scott, who gave him a look back that seemed to say ‘what can you do.’ Stiles sighed and slumped down in his seat. He allowed himself a moment to pout before he resumed eating. If nothing else, at least the pack was equipped to feed him after whatever magic drain happened this weekend.

*************

Stiles frantically wandered around his room Saturday morning trying to prepare for whatever training with the pack might entail. Stiles didn’t know if Derek expected him to talk to them about magic or if they were going to be running around in the woods. Just in case, he changed into comfortable clothing that he didn’t mind getting dirty. He really wished he’d paid more attention to the others when they talked about their training before. Maybe then he’d have some clue as to what it usually entailed. Stiles threw a pouch of mountain ash into his backpack. He looked down at the collection of herbs and crystals and such that Deaton had given him, but he wasn’t sure if any of it would actually be useful for training. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he’d be useful during the training.

Before his spiral of anxiety could get too far, his phone beeped. Stiles forced himself to take a deep breath as he crossed the room. He unplugged his phone from the charger and unlocked it to find a text from Scott. 

From: Beam Me Up Scotty

_Can you give me and Allison a ride to the Hales’ house today? Allison hit a deer last night._

Stiles raised an eyebrow in surprise even as he started typing away. 

To: Beam Me Up Scotty

_Sure. She okay? You at your house or hers?_

From: Beam Me Up Scotty

_She wasn’t hurt. Car’s going to be in the shop for a while though.  
Her house. Mom dropped me off on her way to work._

Stiles glanced at the clock. He was supposed to be meeting Jackson and Lydia at the Hale house at noon. If he left now, he’d have just enough time to grab them and get to the Hales’ with a couple minutes to spare. 

To: Beam Me Up Scotty

_On my way._

Stiles quickly put his shoes on and grabbed his backpack before flying down the stairs. He swung through the kitchen long enough to grab a cereal bar and his travel mug full of coffee. Then he was out the door and in the Jeep. Stiles ate quickly, knowing that he’d need the extra fuel if he was going to be using magic. He alternated with long swigs of coffee, which was definitely helping. By the time he got to Allison’s he was practically vibrating with energy. He pulled up at the curb and shot off a text to Scott, who appeared in the doorway a minute later. 

“Well, that was weird,” Scott said once he and Allison were settled in the Jeep.

Stiles glanced over at him before looking back at the road as he pulled away from the curb. “What was weird?” he asked as he turned a corner and the Argent house disappeared from view. 

“I was waiting downstairs because Allison forgot her bag in her room,” Scott said. He had a slightly confused frown on his face as he looked over at Stiles. “Gerard came over to talk to me and he was asking me about how things were going with me and Allison and about school, but he had this death grip on my shoulder and wouldn’t let go when I tried to move away from him.” Stiles glanced over at Scott as if he could see though his clothing to check that he was okay. Scott seemed to be moving okay, so Stiles guessed the werewolf healing had already taken effect. “I think he was trying to warn me away from the Hales,” Scott continued after a minute. “He was saying stuff about being careful about who you trust and choosing who you’re friends with. It was really weird.”

Stiles shot a questioning glance back at Allison, who just shrugged. “He was already in the kitchen when I came back downstairs,” she explained. She leaned forward and rested a hand on Scott’s shoulder, though she looked at Stiles when she spoke. “I promise I have been really careful about what I say in the house and I make sure my phone is locked when he’s around. I don’t think he suspects that Scott is a werewolf, but he has been acting a little weird lately.”

“Weird?” Stiles asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Phone calls that he doesn’t want me or Dad to overhear,” Allison explained. “And meeting up with Hunters that I don’t know, ones that Dad and I have never worked with.” She shrugged again and leaned back in her seat as the Jeep started to rumble down the bumpy road through the woods around the Hale house. “I mentioned it to Dad, but he said not to worry about it.”

Stiles bit at his lip as he parked the Jeep in the line of cars in front of the Hale house. He killed the engine, but didn’t make any move to get out of the car. After a moment he shrugged. Without anything concrete there wasn’t really anything he or the pack could do. Stiles might be sure that the man was pure evil, but he didn’t think Talia or his dad would go for pre-emptive assassination. He shrugged. “I guess we just have to watch and wait.” He turned to look back down the path as Jackson’s sportscar started coming up the drive. “One problem at a time.”

He climbed out of the Jeep and grabbed his pack from the back, then waited with Scott and Allison while Jackson parked. Lydia looked up at the Hale house speculatively as she climbed out of the car. Her eyes flicked to them curiously before going back to studying her surroundings. “I don’t suppose you want to tell me what this all is about now,” Lydia asked with a pointed glance at Jackson and then at Stiles. 

Stiles gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Why don’t we go inside and we can explain?” 

Lydia’s eyes narrowed, but she paced forward and linked arms with Allison, pulling the other girl along towards the Hale house. Jackson followed at a slower pace. He kept glancing at Scott and then over at the Hale house. Stiles couldn’t quite gauge what Jackson was thinking. One the one hand the boy seemed tense, like maybe he thought he was walking into a trap. But then, he would get this flicker of smug pride on his face and something that looked like relief. Stiles gave up on trying to figure Jackson out. He trailed after the others, closing the door to the house behind him. 

Inside he found the others gathered in the living room. Laura, Cora, and Derek were settled on one couch while Erica, Boyd, and Isaac had taken over another. They shifted over slightly to let Allison join them, with Scott perching on the arm of the couch beside her. Talia and David were standing in the middle of the room, offering two of the chairs to Jackson and Lydia while Vera claimed the third. Peter leaned against the wall in a corner. 

Stiles dropped his backpack out of the way near the stairs. The rest of the house was quiet, so he guessed that Mark and Sophia must have taken the kids out somewhere. Stiles looked around the room again before deciding to just follow Scott’s example. He perched on the opposite arm of the couch next to Erica, who nudged him in greeting. For a minute the room was quiet as everyone settled. Everyone seemed to be looking to Talia for this part, so Stiles forced himself to keep quiet and let her handle it. 

“Jackson, it has come to my attention that you had some questions about Scott and Isaac,” Talia began, clasping her hands in front of her. Jackson gave the room a wary look, but Talia just smiled slightly. “We all talked it over and your friends felt that you and Lydia should be allowed to have your answers.” 

Talia picked up two pieces of paper from the coffee table and handed them to Lydia and Jackson. Stiles leaned forward slightly, but couldn’t see what was on them from the angle he was at. Thankfully Talia didn’t keep him in suspense for long. “These are standard non-disclosure agreements,” Talia said. Jackson barely glanced at his copy, but Lydia was leaning forward intently reading the page. “The information that we would tell you is a closely guarded family secret and we take our privacy very seriously. This is not something that you can tell your friends at school or even your parents without first consulting with us. Not only is the information sensitive to us personally, but telling the wrong person could put every single person in this room in danger.” Talia paused then to let that sink in. 

Lydia carefully set the paper in her lap. “I noticed that this is a very vague document,” she said carefully. “What happens if we accidentally breach it.”

“Don’t,” Peter said. The man pushed off the wall and paced forward into the room, stopping at Talia’s left side. Stiles wasn’t sure if he was unconsciously mirroring David’s position on Talia’s right or if it was a specific choice. He had noticed that Peter had a bit of a flare for the dramatic. “This isn’t some trade secret that might cost us money,” Peter continued. “This is a secret that has and will cost people their lives. If you break our trust, you will be silenced. One way or another.”

Talia reached back and rested a hand on Peter’s shoulder. There was a silent communication between them before Peter relaxed slightly, though he didn’t turn away. Talia turned back to Lydia and Jackson. “What Peter means is that you will be warned and if you continue, you will be viewed as a threat to the family. If you persist, we have ways to make you forget that you ever had this conversation.” 

Jackson hesitated for all of a second before reaching for a pen and signing his document. Lydia pursed her lips. Her eyes flickered over to them, lingering on Scott and Allison for a moment before sweeping around the room. She was still for a moment more before she too picked up a pen and signed with a flourish. Talia collected the documents, glancing at them briefly before handing them over to Peter. He nodded and left the room, possibly to file them away somewhere. 

“Lydia,” Talia said softly, “do you remember the man who took you from your party? The man who took Scott, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd?”

Lydia paled and her hand seemed to move to her side without her realizing, resting where she’d been bitten. She gave a shaky nod, but before she could speak up Jackson broke in. “What does that have to do with anything?” Jackson said. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he looked around the room. 

Talia ignored Jackson, keeping her focus on Lydia. “That man was named Ennis,” she said softly. “He probably looked more like a monster than a man, but he was a man.” Lydia shuddered and gave a tiny nod. “Ennis was mad, driven that way by the death of his pack and his quest for revenge, but underneath all of that he was like us.” Lydia’s eyes widened a bit and Stiles wondered what kinds of emotions the werewolves in the room were picking up from her. “We’re werewolves.”

Jackson scoffed, but before he could do more than open his mouth Talia shifted. She rolled her shoulders and her human features shifted away to fur and fangs. Lydia jerked backwards in the chair while Jackson practically fell out of his. A moment later Talia’s features shifted back to normal, a calm expression on her face even as her eyes slowly faded from Alpha red. She waited while Jackson righted himself. 

“It’s alright,” Talia said soothingly. She slowly held out one of her hands, showing them her fingers with clawed tips. “Unlike Ennis, my pack has control over themselves. None of us will hurt you.” Her claws faded away as she dropped her hand. 

“Werewolves,” Lydia said slowly. She looked past Talia at Stiles and the others. “Are you all werewolves?”

“I’m not,” Allison answered with a small smile. “But I’ve known about them for a while.” Lydia's gaze lingered on Allison for a moment before moving down the line. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully before lingering on Stiles. 

“Not a werewolf either,” Stiles confirmed. 

“But everyone else is,” Lydia said slowly. Her eyes lingered on Isaac. “Because Ennis bit them. But he bit me too…” Lydia's hand pressed against her side. Stiles wondered if there was still a scar there. He could practically see the gears turning. “And I didn't turn.” She turned her gaze on Talia. “Why?”

“Well,” Talia began hesitantly, “normally when someone is bitten by an Alpha, they either become a werewolf themselves or the body rejects the bite.”

“An Alpha?” Lydia interjected. “Like Ennis. Like you.”

Talia nodded. “Yes, Ennis was an Alpha, as am I. Derek is as well. The rest of the pack are Betas. Only a bite from an Alpha can turn someone.”

“So you can turn me?” Jackson interrupted. “You can make me like them.” He waved a hand in the general direction of Stiles and the others.

Talia frowned slightly. She stepped forward to rest a hand on Jackson’s shoulder and her voice softened. “I’m sorry Jackson, but most Alphas won’t turn children, not unless their lives are in danger.” Stiles watched carefully as a brief flash of rage crossed Jackson’s face before it was smoothed away. He couldn’t hide his emotions from Talia though. She knelt down so that she was at his level. “I know it might not seem fair to you,” she said softly, “but the bite is not something that we take lightly. Ennis was biting indiscriminately because he didn’t care if members of his pack lived or died. Normally when an Alpha chooses to bite someone, it’s because they are joining to the pack and have decided to risk rejection. It’s a lifelong commitment.” She paused for a second to let that sink in. “I’m not saying that I won’t ever be willing to give you the bite,” Talia continued. “But I would like to get to know you and have you spend time with my pack. If you still want the bite after you turn 18, we can discuss the matter then.” She held up a finger, cutting Jackson off before he could speak. “But that means sitting down and talking about both the benefits and the risks. And it’s perfectly acceptable if you wish to remain human. Our pack has always had human members in addition to werewolves.”

“But there’s a chance the bite might kill him,” Lydia pointed out. “That’s what happens when your body rejects the bite, right?”

Talia stood again and turned to look at Lydia. “Yes.” Talia glanced back at Stiles. “Though there are some things that complicate the issue.”

Lydia followed Talia’s gaze to Stiles and raised an eyebrow, but seemed to chose to ignore the exchange for now. “And I’m what… immune?” 

“There’s more than just werewolves out there,” Stiles said, no longer able to keep quiet. He continued when Talia didn’t cut him off. “There’s a whole variety of supernatural creatures, both good and bad. And there are people that hunt supernatural creatures, like Allison’s family.” He waved a hand at Allison and she gave Lydia a little wave and a dimpled smile. Not exactly striking fear into the hearts of the werewolves in the room. “And there’s magic.”

“Magic?” Jackson snorted. “Really?”

Stiles looked him right in the eye and held out his hand. He snapped his fingers and a flame appeared above his palm. Another snap and it disappeared. “Yup.” He turned to look back at Lydia. “You didn’t turn because you already are a supernatural creature.”

Lydia’s expression was carefully blank. Silence stretched for several seconds before she spoke. “Pardon?” 

“It’s like… you can only have one supernatural upgrade ever,” he explained, glancing at Talia and then back at Lydia. “You’re immune to the bite because you’ve already had your upgrade. Probably were born that way. You didn’t know?”

“Of course I didn’t know,” Lydia snapped. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep, calming breath before speaking again. “So, what exactly am I then?”

“Ummm…. We’re not exactly sure?” 

Lydia pinned him with a look that was so not impressed. Before she could open her mouth, probably to launch into him, Peter spoke up. “Perhaps you should explain the auras,” he said, drawing everyone’s attention to where he was leaning against the wall. And wow, the dude was sneaky because Stiles hadn’t even noticed him coming back into the room.

“Right,” Stiles said with a nod. “So, part of my magic thing is that I can see auras around people. Like, I can tell who in the rooms are werewolves because they have auras that resemble wolves, like down to their hair and eye color when shifted.” He waved his hand around the room. “Everyone in the room right now has an aura, but I don’t know what yours means.”

Out of the corner of the eye, he caught a bit of motion as Allison raised her hand. “I have an aura?”

Stiles nodded. He let his gaze unfocus for a moment. “It’s a kind of faint blood red aura,” he explained as he looked it over again. “With a crown just above your head.” He waved a hand above his own head to demonstrate the general location. “And above that the Argent family crest.” He blinked and let his eyes refocus. “Your dad has a similar one, just a bit darker and without the crown, so I assumed it meant that you’re a beginning Hunter and his is for a full Hunter.” Stiles shrugged. “Not really a manual on this kind of thing.”

“And mine?” Lydia asked, drawing his attention back to her.

He blinked again and focused on her aura. He squinted his eyes and leaned forward, finally able to really get a good look at it without having to avoid seeming like a creeper. “It’s a really dark green, almost black,” he announced. “And it’s like a deep color, not faint like some of the others.” He tilted his head to the side, trying to get a look at it from another angle. “It kind of… billows? Like a dress or like long hair?”

“Stiles?” Peter’s voice broke into his concentration. He blinked and turned to look at the man. “There’s a way that you could show some of us the aura, if you’re willing. It might help us identify what Lydia is.” 

“How?” Stiles was suddenly incredibly curious. He hadn’t had any luck finding an illusion spell or something similar that would project his thoughts, but he also hadn’t really had a chance to sit down and look through the werewolf related spells in the book that Morrell had given him, let alone the Hale library. 

“Peter.” Talia’s voice held a warning that made Stiles nervous. He looked between the two werewolves as they had a silent conversation with pointed looks and very expressive eyebrows. Finally Talia sighed and looked at Stiles. “There is a way, but it will be painful.” She raised a hand and suddenly there were claws there again. “Just like an Alpha's claws can take away memories, they can also share them with another. Usually this is reserved for dire circumstances and only with werewolves because of their ability to heal.” She shot a pointed glance at Peter. “It’s not something that we use to satisfy our curiosity.”

Peter arched an eyebrow at her. “Am I curious,” he said smoothly. “Yes. But I also feel that it’s important to identify unknown supernatural entities sooner rather than later.” He waved a hand towards Lydia. “Pain is a temporary thing. No lasting harm with be done to the boy.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes as he looked between Talia and Peter. “This is the thing where you dig your claws into my neck?”

Talia nodded.

“Is that really necessary?” Lydia asked carefully. Her expression was a mixture between curious and horrified. “Isn’t there some index of aura images or something you can reference?”

Stiles ran his hands over his face and resisted the urge to sigh. “No,” he said, a bit of his frustration leaking into his voice. “There’s a bunch of different kinds of magic users and I apparently happen to be one of the less common ones. And the aura thing is like a whole other rare thing. I mean, I haven’t looked through all of the books in the Hale library, but I’m pretty sure Peter has and would mention if they had something like that lying around.” He glanced over at Peter who nodded. Stiles groaned. He looked over at Lydia. Her expression was carefully neutral. Stiles knew if it was him, he would want to know, even if he didn’t want someone else to get hurt for it. He glanced between Peter and Talia again. Stiles sighed as he pushed himself off of the arm of the couch. He moved to stand next to Talia in front of Lydia and Jackson. “Fine. Let’s do this.”

Talia held his gaze for one long moment before sighing as well. She muttered something under her breath but he only caught the words ‘stubborn’ and ‘curiosity’. Whatever it was made Peter snort with amusement. He flinched when he felt her hand rest on his neck. Stiles had the chance to take one deep breath, then he felt the prick of claws. Talia plunged her claws in between one breath and the next. Stiles had to bite his lip to keep from shouting at the sharp and sudden flare of pain. His magic surged up against the intrusion. Stiles closed his eyes and concentrated on relaxing himself despite the pain. He took two more deep breaths before opening his eyes. 

Around the room there was a chorus of gasps. “Stiles!” Scott’s voice came from somewhere to the left of him. “Your eyes!” 

Stiles raised a hand as if to touch his eyes, but was distracted by the glow of pure white light surrounding his hand. He looked down at himself and was surprised to see his own aura, an intense white light. “What is it?” His voice sounded distant to his own ears. He turned to look at Scott, but was again distracted by how strong the auras were coming through. 

“They’re pure white,” Scott answered. “You’re kind of starting to glow?”

Stiles opened his mouth to answer, but then winced at a sharp pulse of pain from the claws in his neck. Better to get this over quickly. He slowly turned to Lydia instead, careful not to jar Talia’s grip. Lydia’s aura was as deep as ever, though just the slightest bit clearer. There was the vague imprint of a woman over Lydia and something else… Stiles leaned forward. He thought he almost got the impression of sound from the aura, which was really weird. His hand moved forward as if it had a mind of its own. He just barely brushed his fingers against the aura when a piercing scream rang through the room. Stiles jerked his hand back, clasping both hands over his ears. Only Peter and Talia had reacted, though Lydia certainly appeared surprised by his sudden movement, so he guessed the sound had only been in his head.

“Banshee.” Peter’s voice seemed to be coming from both inside his head and somewhere to his right at the same time. Stiles found the sensation rather odd. He shook his head gently as if to clear away the sound. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught a flicker of motion. He turned his head slightly to look at Jackson. His aura was still flickering between the faint aura of a wolf and green lizard-like form. One moment his face had fur, the next scales. And a tail kept popping in and out of existence. “Huh,” Peter said. “That’s different.” 

Stiles looked away before the flickering could start to hurt his head. He was about to ask Talia to remove her claws when Peter spoke again. “And what about Gerard?”

A brief memory of Gerard’s aura flashed through his mind bringing with it a sense of terror and a wave of nausea. Stiles wrenched himself away from Talia. The claws ripped out of his neck a bit less gently than Talia would have done it, but it severed the connection. “No,” he said firmly. He felt a bit of anger rise up in him at Peter trying to take advantage of the link like that. He pointed a finger at the wolf, who was daintily dabbing at the back of his neck with and handkerchief. “No,” Stiles repeated. “That way lies nightmare fuel.”

Peter raised his hands in surrender. The man smiled slightly as he looked over at Lydia. “It seems we have our answer. You, my dear, are a Banshee.” He finished wiping off his neck and tucked the piece of fabric back in a pocket. “That we do have books on.” 

Stiles jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked over at Derek looming at his shoulder. “Your neck’s bleeding,” Derek pointed out softly. “We should take care of that.”

“It’s fine,” Stiles said. He shrugged off Derek’s hand and batted away Scott when he, too, reached out to help. “I’ve got it.” 

His magic was still pulsing just under his skin, so it was no problem to call a bit of pure power into his palm. He rested his hand on his neck and flooded the wound with magic. Stiles closed his eyes and concentrated on healing. It only took a second for the claw marks to heal. Stiles opened his eyes and grimaced at the blood on his hand. “I’m just going to go rinse this off,” he said.

Stiles slid through the gathered werewolves, letting out a breath as he stepped into the empty hallway. He took a minute in the bathroom to get himself under control after he cleaned off his neck and hand. Stiles took a series of deep breaths. Once he was calm again, he went back into the living room. Talia was having a quiet conversation with Jackson in one corner. The rest of the Hales had dispersed into the rest of the house, except for Derek who was over with Erica, Isaac, and Boyd. 

Lydia caught his arm before he could walk past her. “Your neck… How?”

He turned his neck to show her the healed skin. “Healing is one of the few things that I have figured out how to do,” he said with a wry grin. 

Lydia pursed her lips for a brief second before she looked him straight in the eyes. “Thank you.”

Stiles felt himself blush a little. He shrugged, finding himself strangely uncomfortable with attention that he would have died for a year ago. “No worries,” he said with a small smile. 

“Okay,” Derek said, his voice ringing through the room. “Let’s head outside for training.” Derek grinned, bright and wicked. “You’re ready to show us what you can do, right Stiles?”

Stiles groaned. He had almost forgotten about that. “I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said no?”

Derek started to herd the betas outside. He rested a hand on Stiles’s lower back, steering him down the hallway towards the rear door. “Nope.”

“Shit.”


	4. Chapter 4

To say that training was a disaster was a bit of an understatement. Stiles was led outside where he had not only Derek’s pack watching him, but also Lydia, Jackson, and an assortment of Hales perched on the back porch. He glanced over and saw matching grins on Laura and Cora’s faces. Peter and Talia just watched with a relaxed sort of calm from a pair of wicker chairs. Stiles felt his magic bubble up with nervous energy as Derek pulled his attention away from their audience. Derek rested a hand on the small of Stiles’s back and steered him to the middle of a clear area in the back yard. 

“Okay,” Stiles said, wringing his hands together to try and relieve some of his energy. “I’m not really sure what you expect me to do. I mean, Deaton’s really only taught me wards, shields, and potions and two of those three aren’t really the show and tell type of thing.” He looked over at Derek, but was met with an unimpressed look. Stiles sighed and looked around for his bag. He thought he’d left it in the house, in which case he could delay a little longer, maybe sneak out the front. But then Scott was there helpfully handing it to him. Stiles grumbled under his breath as he pulled out the jar of mountain ash.

Stiles turned towards Erica and the other newly turned wolves. “So, I don’t know if the Hales have gotten to this in Werewolf 101,” he said as he poured out a handful of ash. Stiles carefully set the remainder of the jar aside. He looked up at the werewolves. “This is mountain ash.” He let the ash shift from one hand to the other and back again. “Doesn’t look like much, but very useful.” He tossed the ash up in the air. A tiny spark of magic had the ash coming down in a perfect circle around him. “A line laid in a doorway or window, or a circle like this and…” He looked over at Derek expectantly.

Derek huffed, but obligingly stepped forward to push against the barrier. Derek pressed against it with both hands without any effect. 

“Cool!” Erica raced forward until she was right up against the barrier. She laughed as she reached her arms out as if she was hugging a large tree and pressed her cheek against the barrier. A moment later she bounced back only to push forward with both hands against the barrier. Erica pushed forward with all of her strength, even wolfing out a little, but she wasn’t able to make the barrier budge. 

Stiles shook his head. “Not going to happen. Allison?” He held out his hand. Allison smiled as she stepped forward. She took his hand and carefully stepped over the barrier. Once she was over, Stiles dropped her hand. A wave of his hand broke the line of ash while a little wisp of wind gathered up the ash and pushed it back into the jar. Stiles bent down and screwed the lid back onto the jar before tucking it back into his backpack. He looked over at Derek as he slowly rose back to his feet. Derek raised an eyebrow at him and Stiles sighed. He handed his backpack to Allison and shooed her away from his little circle.

“Okay,” he said on a long exhale. “So, shields. Essentially the same thing as mountain ash only without the ash and stops everyone. It’s what I did in the cave to keep Ennis back.” Stiles shrugged. “So, like I said, Deaton’s had me working on those pretty much exclusively. I can do multiple layers of shields now or multiple shields, like if I wanted to do one around myself and one over Laura on the porch and another over Scott or something.” He held up a hand and sent a tiny bit of magic out. “I can also do little ones, like replicating an actual shield.” He shifted the shield towards Erica. “High five?”

Erica bounced in place once before rushing over. She hopped into the air and slapped her hand downwards, only to meet Stiles’s shield. As soon as Erica touched the shield, his magic sent her bouncing back. Erica rolled as she landed and then popped up with a giggle. “Again?” she asked. 

Stiles grinned and was about to respond when he was cut off by Derek. “Later,” he growled out. Derek turned to glare at Stiles. “This is supposed to be training for the betas. They need to practice defending against magic, not bouncing off your shields. You need to attack.”

Before Stiles could speak up to protest, for the millionth time, that he didn’t know offensive spells, Scott spoke up. “Like that fire thing you did that one time. It was awesome!” Scott deflated a little bit at the glare Stiles shot him. He gave Stiles an apologetic smile and Stiles sighed.

“Fine,” Stiles groaned. He rubbed his hands over his face. He let his hands fall as he let out a long breath. “Okay,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “The fire thing…” He looked over at the others. “Maybe just back up a little more.” He waved his hands at Derek and the others until he had a good bit of distance to work with.

After another fortifying breath, Stiles closed his eyes and tried to remember what he’d done. He hadn’t been working from a spell when Ennis attacked them. He’d just kind of panicked and blasted. Then he’d gotten caught up with the murders and the pack and everything and never really found a chance to try and recreate it. But, he could totally do it. He just had to remember what he’d done. He’d been panicking because of being chased by a monster. Stiles felt his magic spring into his hands, filled with the nervous energy of his remembered panic. But, he’d also been focused on protecting Scott.

Stiles opened his eyes as he felt something inside of him settle. He could do this. He could use his magic to protect his pack. Stiles raised his hands. He focused his magic and a wave of wind and fire rushed forward. Stiles yelped in surprise, but the noise was drowned out by a cheer from the porch. He looked over with wide eyes to see Cora and Laura shouting excitedly. 

From the corner of his eye, he caught Scott giving him a thumbs up. It gave him the courage to try again. He raised his hand and conjured up another blast of fire and wind. Stiles had to grin at the even louder whoops of excitement, now with Erica and Scott joining in. The blast was cool, but it wouldn’t really work for any kind of training. He concentrated and the blast narrowed. Stiles twisted his hands and the fire and wind shaped into a rope that he was able to move around like a lash. He had to grin at the thrill of accomplishment. He glanced over at the others and even Lydia was smiling. Then, Derek opened his mouth.

“Erica, Boyd, you’re up.”

“What?” Stiles only had one moment to process the words before Erica was leaping forward with a shout on one side and Boyd silently rushing forward on the other. “No!” He hastily cut off the fire. He raised his hand and waves of wind gently knocked the two werewolves backwards. Unfortunately Erica seemed to enjoy the feeling. She hooted as she bounced back to her feet. Erica grinned at him as she raced forward. Stiles quickly raised a shield just as Erica moved to punch at him. He let out a shaky breath as she hit the barrier instead.

“Stiles!” Derek’s voice shattered his concentration and the shield dropped. “You’re practicing offense. No shields.” Derek turned his head towards the betas. “Erica and Boyd, again!”

Erica sprang forwards again before he was ready and Stiles scrambled to dodge. He stumbled on the grass, but managed to right himself pretty quickly. As soon as he had a little distance between them, he sent a weak rope of fire and wind towards Erica that she easily jumped over. He sent a second one at Boyd, which the man dodged as well. Stiles quickly backed up, using the ropes to keep the two werewolves at a distance. Erica watched him with her head cocked to the side for a few moments before a maniacal grin spread on her face. She glanced over at Boyd and some kind of silent communication passed between them. Then, she rushed forward, straight towards his fire.

Stiles felt a brief second of panic that he was actually going to burn Erica. He scrambled to cut off the magic just as she passed through where the fire had been. Erica didn’t even pause. He threw up a shield to block Erica just in time, but realized a second too late that he’d forgotten about Boyd. He glanced to the left. There was a dark blur moving towards him, way too close. Stiles’s breath was knocked out of him as Boyd tackled him with the force of a freight train. They went down hard. Stiles felt a sharp wave of pain that would have had him crying out if he’d had any breath left. Instead he just collapsed under Boyd with a pathetic wheezing sound. He groaned when Erica threw herself on top of the pile. 

“Oww,” he said weakly when Boyd shifted off of him. He pushed at Erica until she finally popped up to her feet, and he could finally breathe again. Erica held out a hand to Boyd, helping the larger man up. Then, they both turned to Stiles and offered hands.

From the porch came the annoying sound of Jackson's laughter. Jackson was practically doubled over the railing, ignorant of the glares from the Hale sisters beside him. “Good job Stilinski,” Jackson called when his laughter finally died down.

Stiles shot a glare over at the man as his mood went from bad to worse. “You okay?” Boyd asked softly. “I didn't mean to hit you that hard. I was expecting a shield.”

“It's fine,” Stiles grumbled. “My fault for being slow.” He accepted Boyd and Erica’s hands and let them start to pull him to his feet. Stiles bit off a curse and let go, falling back to the ground. He flopped onto his back and gritted his teeth until the pain in his ankle lessened.

“Come on, Stiles,” Derek said as he moved into range of Stiles’s vision. “Up and try it again.”

Stiles ignored Derek as he sat up. He bent his knee and pulled his pants leg up to get a better look at his ankle. It was already starting to swell. “Shit.” Stiles rested a hand on the swollen flesh and started channeling magic to heal himself.

“Stiles!”

Derek’s voice broke into his concentration and Stiles snapped. “Dammit, Derek, give me a minute. I fucking sprained my ankle and unlike you all I need to fucking concentrate to heal myself.” Stiles looked down at his ankle again. His anger seemed to be fueling his magic. It rushed under his hand and was visibly reducing the swelling. After a few seconds, the pain ebbed enough that he could accept Boyd’s help to climb to his feet. Stiles tested his weight and was relieved to be able to put weight on his ankle. He let out a small sigh of relief and let his magic trickle away.

“Okay.” Stiles took a few hesitant steps and was relieved to find that his ankle was a little bit tender, but not too bad. “I think that’s enough magic for today. I like to limit myself to one injury per day.”

Derek huffed out a sigh. “You’re not going to improve if you don’t practice and neither are they.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’ve lived in Beacon Hills all my life and this is the first time anything weird happened.” Stiles waved a hand around them. “Deaton hasn’t even mentioned teaching me offensive magics. If there was some kind of looming magical threat, I’m sure he would have made that a priority.”

“Just because there’s not a threat now doesn’t mean there won’t be one in the future.” Derek crossed his arms and scowled at Stiles. “That’s the point of training. So the pack is prepared.”

“Prepared for what, Derek?” Stiles flailed at the woods and pack around them. “There is no threat. And even if there was a threat, there’s not one, but _two_ packs around to take care of it.” Stiles motioned towards the porch with both hands. “Whatever threat you have imagined up would have to go through your family first. I have a feeling that they’re a lot more effective than a pack of Betas who have barely been werewolves for a hot second and a Spark who’s half-trained at best.” He waved at himself at the last part. 

“If you want to be more that ‘half-trained,’ you have to try,” Derek growled. He stalked forward until he was right in front of Stiles. “You’re never going to be effective if that's the strongest your magic is.” Derek motioned towards where Erica and Boyd were standing off to the side. Erica looked surprised at being brought into the argument. She and Boyd awkwardly backed away. 

“It's just practice,” Stiles growled back. He glanced over at the others and felt a wave of humiliation building. The inside of his head was a lovely little soup of self-loathing built on the frustration that Derek was actually kind of right. Unless Deaton actually taught him something offensive, he wasn’t ever going to be effective. But, he refused to admit that to Derek. Instead he crossed his arms to mirror Derek. “You may be okay with breaking bones, but I’m not willing to hurt my friends.”

“They’ll learn to dodge or they'll heal,” Derek pointed out.

Stiles shot the Alpha a look of disgust. “Not going to happen.”

“They can take it,” Derek growled angrily. He stepped forward, getting right up into Stiles's face.

“I'm not going to hurt them just to fulfill your sadomasochistic fantasy disguised as a teaching method,” Stiles bit out.

Derek’s eyes flared red. “If you can't defend your pack, then what good are you.”

Stiles bristled. He bit his lip to cover the waves of hurt that must be coming of of him. Slowly, he took one step backward. “Don't you ever doubt that I will do what I have to to protect my friends,” he ground out. “I think I’ve proven that already.” He turned and stalked away before Derek could reply. He didn’t even slow down to grab his backpack, instead circling the house and heading straight for the line of cars. Stiles slammed the door of the Jeep closed. He quickly turned the Jeep around, then gunned it down the road away from the Hale house. He ignored the ringing of his phone, tossing it into the passenger seat instead when the vibrating got too annoying. He didn’t realize he’d had a destination in mind until he was parking in front of the clinic.

Stiles held the door open for Mrs. Obermeir as she left, then stepped inside. He found Deaton in his office. “Why can't I do offensive spells?” he asked.

Deaton glanced up from his paperwork. He gave a pointed look towards the chair in front of his desk before turning back to his papers and filing them away. “I assume you mean why can't you do a strong offensive spell when you're practicing with the pack?” He continued on before Stiles had a chance to nod. “When you’re shaping your magic with nothing but your will, it is entirely based off of what you believe,” Deaton said. “Using your magic that way, you won’t ever be able to cast a powerful offensive spell because you don’t actually want to hurt anyone. Your magic responds to your feelings, whether you’re conscious of them or not. If you were ever in a serious, life-or-death situation, and you could accept that your actions will take a life, then you would be able to cast at that level, but until then…” Deaton shrugged. “In our circles, doing no harm is not considered a weakness.”

Stiles slumped back in the chair as he processed Deaton’s answer. It made sense. But, on the other hand, shouldn't he already be willing to kill for his pack. Isn't that what being part of a werewolf pack meant? “How did you learn to do offensive spells?” he asked. “What can I do differently? Is there some meditation or mental trick that I’m missing?”

For a long moment, Deaton was silent. He leaned his elbows on his desk and gave Stiles his full attention. “Druids in general don’t practice offensive spells. Our nature is to maintain the balance, and that rarely involves fighting directly for one group against another.”

“Oh.” Stiles felt a bit numb at Deaton’s admission. “So, it’s not that you don’t want me to learn offensive spells yet,” he said slowly, “it’s that you can’t teach them to me. You don’t know any.”

Deaton nodded. Stiles leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees and ran a hand over his face. “So, I’m never going to be what Derek wants,” Stiles mumbled. “Great.”

“If this is something that you are serious about pursuing,” Deaton said, drawing Stiles’s from his self-pity. “I can look into finding another teacher for you.”

Stiles shot to his feet. “Really?” His excitement died when Deaton held up a hand. 

“It may take some time,” Deaton said. “Usually the apprentice travels to the teacher, which I understand is not ideal for you right now. I will have to find someone willing to come here and that may require some negotiation.”

“Oh.” Stiles ran a hand through his hair. He let out a slow breath and tried to reign in his disappointment. “Okay, yeah. If you can find someone eventually, that’d be great. Until then, I guess I’ll just keep muddling through on my own.”

Deaton smiled at him. “You’ve already grown considerably since you first started working with me. Have patience.”

Stiles sighed, but nodded. “Thanks, Doc. I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

On his way home Stiles swung by the closest fast food place and ordered four burgers in addition to fries and a shake because he was suddenly starving. He wondered idly if he’d ever get to the point where he wasn’t hungry after using magic. He wasn’t really surprised to find someone waiting on his front steps when he pulled into the driveway, but of all of the people, he hadn’t expected it to be Laura. Stiles hesitated for a minute as he put the Jeep into park. Laura just watched him with a small smile as she pushed to her feet. She had his forgotten backpack sitting at her feet. Stiles shook his head and gathered his bags of food. “Laura,” he greeted as he stepped past her to unlock the front door. He left the door open, heading towards the kitchen. He set the food on the table, then poured two glasses of water. 

“I’m sorry Derek was being a dick,” Laura said as she sat down.

Stiles snorted at that. He shot her a grateful smile as he sat down across from her. For a moment there was only the sound of rustling paper as he unpacked the burgers and fries from the bags. He silently slid one of the burgers across the table to Laura before digging into his own. 

Laura accepted the burger with a smile. She neatly unwrapped it and took a bite. The first two sandwiches were gone in a matter of seconds. Laura leaned back in her chair while Stiles alternated fries with bites of his second burger. 

“Derek was never meant to be an Alpha,” Laura said. Stiles paused with the burger halfway to his mouth. He raised an eyebrow at Laura as she leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “Usually the Alpha position is inherited,” she continued. “Mom inherited it from her father. If something ever happened to her, Dad would take over as Alpha, then uncle Peter, then uncle Mark. When mom is ready to retire, I’ll take over as Alpha and by then I’ll probably have kids of my own. So, while Derek probably heard some of the lessons that mom has given me to prepare me to be an Alpha, he’s never really had to even consider the possibility that he might have to be the Alpha himself. It was just kind of thrust upon him suddenly and with a whole pack of bitten teenage wolves at that.”

Laura sighed and leaned back in her chair. Stiles slowly swallowed the last of his food and mimicked her pose. He waited for her to continue with what others would probably consider an uncharacteristic amount of patience. 

“I’m not saying that all that excuses him from being a dick,” Laura said. She looked up and met his eyes. “I think we all universally agree that what he said was completely uncalled for and also not true in the slightest. Hell, he would probably even agree that he was wrong. But, he’s not going to say anything, not yet and not in front of the pack because for some reason he’s got it in his mind that being a strong pack means being able to take down any threat. And, yeah, Ennis and his semi-pack probably scared the shit out of him. It was more action that we normally see around here. I mean, usually it’s just a lone Omega every now and then, nothing like murder sprees and kidnappings and…” Laura let out her breath in a gusty sigh. She waved a hand as if to clear away the random tangent. 

“That’s not the point,” Laura said after a moment of silence. “The point is that Derek probably won’t outright say he’s sorry because, honestly, he’s just not that great with words. What he probably will do is make sure to give you a compliment or do something nice for you. So, in the meantime, please accept my apology on behalf of him and the rest of the pack.”

Stiles considered Laura for a long moment. If she was uncomfortable with the silence, she didn’t show it. “Okay,” he said slowly. “But, I think we should agree no more magic practice for awhile.”

“Agreed,” Laura said with a sympathetic smile. “Though those flame blasts were totally awesome.” She reached across the table and patted Stiles on the arm. “You’re welcome to come over and practice without him any time.” Laura patted his arm one last time before pushing off the table and slipping out of the room. The door clicked shut behind her.

He sat in silence while he processed the conversation. His father was at work for the evening, so he didn’t need to worry about making anything for dinner. After today, Stiles was tempted just to order a pizza and lose himself in video games for the rest of the day. Stiles pushed himself up from the table and cleared away the trash. He locked the front door, then grabbed his backpack as he headed towards the stairs. Stiles paused when he picked up the bag. It was definitely heavier than he remembered. Stiles set his bag down on a step and unzipped it. Inside were two books on magical theory that he recognized from the Hale library. Stiles smiled as he picked up his bag again. It looked like Peter had sent an apology as well. Stiles now knew what he would be doing for the rest of the weekend.

*************

Stiles approached his usual lunch table and was about to drop his tray down across from Scott when he noticed the worried look his friend was giving him. A look that was echoed in various forms across most of the faces there. Stiles dropped his tray and then followed it down so his head was resting on his arms. “I’m fine,” he said with a groan. “Just stop with the looks.”

He felt Erica drop down into the spot next to him. She leaned into his side briefly before pulling away to start eating. Which, really, he should be doing because he was starving after practicing magic in his room all weekend. He raised his head cautiously and bit back another groan when he looked at Scott. “Stop that,” he said, pointing at Scott’s still concerned expression. 

Scott rolled his eyes, but his expression did relax into a faint hint of a smile. “You were pretty upset on Saturday,” he said gently. “We were worried that you might not come to the pack meetings and stuff anymore.”

Stiles resisted the urge to sigh. Instead he bit into his apple. “Laura already came over and apologized for Derek. And Peter sent me some books.” He shrugged. Stiles ran a hand over his face as he thought back over Saturday. He shook his head to clear it and focused on his plate instead.

“You mentioned a Spark. What is that?” Lydia asked, leaning forward with her elbows on the table and her hands clasped. 

Stiles glanced around them, but Danny and Jackson were over with the lacrosse team today and no one else seemed to be paying much attention to them. He lowered his voice anyways. “Remember how I said there were different types of magic users? There are witches, shamans, bruja, etcetera. My teacher, Deaton, is a Druid. I’m a Spark, which is apparently the rare kind. Yay me!” Stiles waved his hands in an unenthusiastic version of jazz hands. He lowered them with a sigh and poked unenthusiastically at the bland cafeteria spaghetti on his plate. 

“Alan Deaton, as in the vet, is a Druid?” Lydia made a thoughtful noise when Stiles nodded. “And the different types use magic in different ways?”

“Yup,” Stiles said, looking up again. He resigned himself to answering Lydia’s questions until she was satisfied. “They each harness magic different ways and they have different training, different rules. Except for Sparks, who apparently can make things happen just from believing.” Stiles felt his agitation growing as he recalled his frustration from Saturday. “And that’s the problem, because Deaton was taught magic as a Druid and he follows Druid rules of magic and that means that he literally cannot teach me offensive magic. Druids just don’t do that kind of magic. So, he can’t teach me. And I’m never going to be able to do the kind of magic that Derek wants.”

Erica leaned into his side while Allison reached across the table and laid a hand on Stiles’s arm. “It’s okay,” Allison said. “You can join Lydia and I.” Allison smiled when Stiles looked up in surprise. “Peter said he was going to look into finding a kind of guide to Banshees, but until then, I thought she could practice with me. I talked to Derek and Talia and they were okay with me training with the wolves to show them what Hunters can do.” Allison’s tone was both proud and excited. Stiles had a feeling that she didn’t get a chance to show off her skills much. He grinned a little bit at the sly look in her eyes. The wolves were in for a treat, or an asskicking, one of the two. 

“Allison is going to teach me self-defense,” Lydia said with a smile just slightly this side of vicious. For a second Stiles wasn’t sure if he was afraid or aroused. He shook his head before he could analyze his feelings too closely.

“Thank you for the offer,” he said to Allison, “but I’m not sure if you’ve been paying attention in gym class, but I am not exactly the martial arts type. Guns, sure. Running away, excellent. Setting things on fire while panicking, definitely a pro. Punching and kicking and such is just asking for me to find new and interesting ways to hurt myself.”

Allison smiled at him sympathetically. “I’m sure it won’t be that bad,” she reassured him. “At least give it a try.”

“If nothing else, at least come and hang out with us, dude,” Scott pleaded. “You and Peter can bond over old books or something. We just don’t want you to be left out.”

Stiles let out a long sigh when Scott turned his wide puppy dog eyes on Stiles full blast. “Fine. When is the next one of these torture sessions?”

Scott grinned at him. “Derek wanted us to meet up after school on Wednesday since Saturday kind of got derailed after you left.” Stiles felt a twinge of guilt, but none of the others seemed particularly bothered. “Promise you’ll come?”

“I promise.” Despite Stiles’s lack of enthusiasm, the others seemed pleased. He wasn’t so sure about Allison teaching him to be a badass fighter, but at the very least he could go for a quick run in the woods to vent some energy and then hole up with a book. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t have to twist Peter’s arm to listen to him read one of the other books that only magic users could read. Stiles relaxed slowly as he went back to eating and resigned himself to an awkward Wednesday night.

He had two days to talk himself out of going, but as if sensing his thoughts, every time he thought about just staying home, one of the pack would text him to make sure he was coming on Wednesday. Even Isaac and Boyd messaged him, which was completely unexpected. Laura was pretty insistent about it, in fact.

So, Wednesday afternoon after school, he found himself in his Jeep staring up at the now familiar sight of the Hale house. Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath to brace himself before he climbed out of the car. He circled around the house to where the others were already gathered. Stiles had to pause at the corner of the house to process just what he was seeing. 

Allison was decked out in black clothing and was holding a knife in each hand. Erica, Boyd, Scott, and Isaac were arranged in a loose circle around her, apparently attempting to take her down, but failing spectacularly. Stiles felt his mouth drop open in awe as Allison dropped her knives, threw Scott over her shoulder towards a tree, scooped up her knives again, and parried Erica away without even missing a beat. He moved forward slowly, almost afraid that if he moved too quickly Allison would lose concentration. Stiles stopped at the back porch and leaned against the railing next to where Laura was perched. He was mesmerized by the way that Allison moved. She dodged away from Boyd, unafraid to score him with her knives even as she turned to kick Isaac solidly in the stomach. Then, she did some kind of ninja flip over Scott when he tried to tackle her. Allison rolled away and sprang back to her feet, moving immediately to meet Erica’s rush head on. 

Eventually, the exertion seemed to get the better of everyone and the Betas stopped hopping back to their feet. Allison smiled down at them as they panted on the ground. She calmly cleaned her blades on a cloth she produced from one of the many pockets in her outfit as she moved towards the porch. Stiles looked at her and definitely did not feel up to any kind of training that she would offer today. He felt his nerves build just looking at Derek and the others and with it came a bubble of magic under his skin. Stiles nudged Laura’s leg. “I’m going to go for a run,” he said quietly when she looked over at him. 

Laura’s expression clouded for a moment before she forced a grin. “Have fun.”

Stiles cast one more glance at the pack before slipping off into the woods. His usual jogging path was on the other side of the preserve, but there was still a nice path leading through the Hale land. Within minutes he was surrounded by huge trees and the quiet of the forest. His magic flowed out of him with each exhale. Slowly, breath by breath, he relaxed.

After running for a few minutes, Stiles came across a fork in the path. He knew the left branch would take him towards the public areas of the preserve, where he normally ran, but he didn’t really feel like encountering anyone else today. Instead, he turned right, down the path that looked less used. The trees around him grew thicker and the path fainter. Stiles had a feeling that only the wolves ran this way. There was something about this area that seemed more wild than the rest of the preserve. It was the kind of place that wouldn’t be out of place in a creepy horror movie, but somehow it made him feel welcome. It was like the deep parts of the forest were calling out to his magic, resonating with it. 

Stiles slowed down to a walk as he looked around more closely at the forest. It kind of reminded him of the places that he played as a kid, where he remembered seeing different creatures that the wolves never seemed to notice. The creatures that he now knew from Deaton’s books were real. He sighed as thoughts of Deaton reminded him of his problems with his magic and Derek. Stiles ran a hand through his hair. He looked back over his shoulder. He’d have to turn back eventually and face the pack. Laura at least knew where he was, but if he was gone for too long they’d probably come looking for him. It was so nice out here though, alone with the trees.

“What troubles you, young Spark?”


	5. Chapter 5

“What troubles you, young Spark?”

Stiles startled out of his thoughts. He looked around him, but saw only forest. Then, one of the trees moved and he realized it wasn’t a tree at all. The creature shrank in size as it approached.   
Its form resolved into something closer to a human male, though still a rather large human. He wore loose, hanging garments of a strange type of cloth that was somewhere between brown and green. It made the man appear to be wearing a mixture of bark and moss, but when Stiles looked closely, he could see the stitches in the fabric. The creature had a long beard with vines and flowers braided into it. His hair was pulled back into a neat tail that was decorated with more vines and feathers. 

“Leshy,” Stiles breathed in surprise. 

The leshy laughed, a deep and hearty sound with an echo of rustling leaves. He bowed slightly. “That I am,” he said, “but you can call me Oak.”

Stiles was speechless for a moment before his manners kicked in on autopilot. “Pleased to meet you,” he said softly. “I’m Stiles.”

Oak smiled at him. He sat down on a nearby fallen tree. His form grew slightly to accommodate for the height of the trunk. “It’s rare that anyone comes wandering this deep into the woods,” Oak said. Stiles looked around for a similar perch, but didn’t see one. Oak waved a hand and a root lifted from the ground to form a perfect bench. Stiles nodded his thanks. “Not even the Hales visit me anymore. Perhaps in exchange for some news of the modern world, I could provide counsel for what’s troubling you?”

Stiles considered the offer. He’d read conflicting accounts of leshy in the mythology Deaton had given him. Some stories said the forest spirits lured away unsuspecting travellers and abducted children, but there were just as many accounts that said they were forest guardians. There were so many stories about fae tricking mortals though… Stiles let his eyes unfocus. Deaton had said he might be able to pick up intentions from auras. Stiles concentrated, but all he felt off of the leshy was peace and curiosity. His aura was a deep, mossy green. It swirled around the leshy like vines growing in fast forward. Stiles didn’t sense anything bad from him. There were no hints of darkness anywhere. “What would you like to know?” he asked cautiously.

Oak smiled. He leaned forward with intent and started asking questions. Stiles was more than a little surprised to find that the leshy knew quite a bit about the modern world, or at least the world up to the last twenty years. Oak had heard about major things likes wars and natural disasters, but he didn’t know who the last few presidents had been or any of the other world leaders. He had only a cursory interest in politics though, preferring instead to hear about advancements in science and technology or popular books and movies. Oak was fascinated by the idea of the internet and his mind was blown by portable phones. He examined Stiles’s cell phone with the utmost care. 

“Now, what of your troubles, wolf-brother?” Oak asked as he handed the phone back.

Stiles startled at the moniker. He snorted. “It’s the wolves that are the problem,” he muttered. “Or at least one of them.” He continued on at Oak’s raised eyebrow. “Derek, the pack’s Alpha, wants me to work on my offensive magic with the pack. But, he keeps yelling at me for holding back when I don’t go full force against them.” He shot to his feet and started pacing as his earlier frustration came back. “And he just doesn’t get it! I mean, it’s not like I’ve got claws like them or even knives and arrows like Allison. I know they can heal, but that doesn’t mean I’m comfortable lobbing fireballs at them, but I was willing to try anyway.” Stiles sighed and sank back down on his root. “Apparently that wasn’t good enough.”

Oak nodded his head. “It sounds to me as if it is a matter of trust,” he said slowly. He held up a hand when Stiles’s mouth popped open. “Not that you don’t trust them. I have a feeling that you trust your pack with your life.” He smiled slightly when Stiles nodded. “You don’t trust yourself.” 

Stiles flinched, but couldn’t help but admit that Oak was probably right. He hadn’t really thought about it that way. Deep down Oak’s words struck a chord in him and felt right. 

“I can see strong magical ability in you,” Oak continued. “But, there is much stronger potential that you have yet to grow into. And you are growing into it quickly. Your teacher is serving you well for increasing your strength, but maybe you think you are growing too quickly.” Oak raised an eyebrow at him. Stiles felt pinned by his word. He hadn’t had such a frank discussion about his magic with anyone, not even Deaton. 

“You don’t trust in your abilities enough to know with certainty that you won’t hurt them beyond what they can heal. Not if you truly unleashed yourself.” Oak gave him a sad smile. “That kind of doubt can be crippling in a real battle. And there are always real battles ahead for your kind I’m afraid.”

Stiles nodded. “What can I do though?” he asked in a voice made soft by the weight of his worry. “Deaton flat out said that he can’t teach me offensive magic because that’s just not the type of magic user he is.” He elaborated at Oak’s curious look. “Deaton’s my teacher. He’s a Druid.”

“Ahhh.” Oak nodded in understanding. “A maintainer of balance. His kind rarely gets involved in battles. There are no other Sparks you could learn from?”

“None that we know of.” Stiles shrugged. He was quiet for a minute. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I don’t trust myself not to hurt them. Or at least, not with that type of magic.”

Oak rose from his tree. He held out a hand to Stiles. “I propose another bargain for you. I can provide you with training partners who you will have no chance of harming with your magic.”

Stiles’s eyebrow shot up. “How could you possibly do that?” he asked skeptically.

Oak grinned. “Earth magic cannot harm me, nor can Fire magic harm a Salamander, or Water harm a Naiad. In fact, with the right partner, the magic could serve to feed the creature.” 

“And in return?” Stiles asked cautiously. The offer sounded too good to be true.

“In return, you provide me and my friends with food and entertainment from your world.” Oak’s smile went a bit wistful. “I haven’t had a new book in decades.” 

Stiles nodded. He went to grasp Oak’s hand, but hesitated. “Why?” he asked simply. “Why help me?”

Oak didn’t retract his hand, but his expression grew serious. “Because my protection is limited to the deep forest. We fae don’t often involve ourselves in the world outside our borders, but that doesn’t mean that it cannot affect us. It’s been too long since we’ve had a contact in this area, a Champion.” His expression softened at the spike of panic that must have come off Stiles in waves. “I am not asking you to pledge yourself to such a role, nor will I ask it of you in the future. But, I see potential in you. Consider it an investment.”

Stiles hesitated for one more long moment. He turned all of Oak’s words over in his mind, trying to find a trap or some kind of angle that would come back to bite him in the end. “Training in exchange for gossip, foods, and books,” he agreed as he clasped Oak’s hand. 

“Wonderful.” Oak’s smile was like a peak of the sun into a meadow. He shook Stiles’s hand firmly. Oak stepped backwards, drawing their still joined hands up to touch the bark of a nearby tree. Stiles felt a warm tread of magic pulse through him. Oak released his hand as the brush that had been next to the tree shifted away to reveal a faint path. “The forest will recognize you now,” Oak said solemnly. “No harm will come to you within my domain and any path you find yourself on will lead you here if you wish it.”

“Oh.” Stiles reached out a hand to the tree, but it seemed to be an ordinary tree once more. He swallowed down a lump in his throat, not really sure what someone was supposed to say when given a blessing by a fae, because that kind of seemed like what had just happened. “Thank you,” he settled on eventually and hoped that didn’t put him in Oak’s debt or anything like that.

“This way, young Spark,” Oak said, already moving down the path. Stiles trailed after him and soon found himself stepping into a clearing with a gigantic wooden house. His eyes went wide as he took in the size of it. It was a simple cabin in structure, but built on an enormous scale. Stiles was pretty sure each of the steps on the front porch was as tall as he was. In front of the house was an equally huge table and chairs. Oak glanced back at him and then over at the table. He rested a hand on a chair and it shrunk under his touch. One by one he repeated the action until the whole thing was human sized. “Welcome to my home,” Oak said, turning to Stiles again. “We can meet here for your training, if that is amenable to you.” 

Stiles nodded, unable for a minute to process the sheer awesomeness of Oak’s magic. “Of course,” he said, nodding again. He looked from Oak to the table and back again. “Dude, how did you do that?” He reached out to touch a chair, but stopped at the last second. He looked at Oak for permission before laying his hand on the chair. Stiles unfocused his vision, but there was only a faint residue of Oak’s mossy green magic on the chair, so it didn’t seem like he was actively maintaining the spell. He had permanently changed the size of the set.

“The objects are made of wood,” Oak explained simply. He rested his hand on the chair in front of Stiles and his magic flowed into it. “Being a creature of Earth, it is a simple thing to manipulate objects of my own element.” As if to demonstrate his words, the chair back shifted under his hand, arching up where the surface had been flat before. Oak moved his hand away. “With practice, those experienced in Earth magic can create simple plants with a thought.” Oak stretched out his hand and a flower bud formed above it. As Stiles watched the bud blossomed into a fully formed flower of a type that he didn’t recognize. With another wave of Oak’s hand the flower disappeared in a sprinkle of petals, leaving behind only a hint of perfume. 

“Woah.” Stiles sunk down into the chair with a thud. He looked up at Oak with what was probably an expression of desperate hopefulness. “And you think I’ll be able to do that some day?”

Oak laughed, a hearty deep sound. “I have no doubt,” the leshy replied. “With some work, you will be able to harness the essence of Earth to create or destroy.”

Stiles bit his lip. “About the destroy part…” He looked around them at Oak’s house and what appeared to be, upon closer inspection, a carefully tended garden. “I don’t think your yard will survive practicing that part.”

“Worry not.” Oak waved his hand towards another path leading even deeper into the woods. “There is an appropriately barren place where we can practice such magics when the time comes.” 

“Oh, that works.” Stiles looked towards where Oak had motioned, but the woods didn’t look any different in that direction than anywhere else. “So… Like… When would you want to do this training and how often?”

Oak shrugged. “Come whenever you have free time.” The leshy waved a hand at the forest around him. “If I am nearby I will sense you coming and meet you here. If I have been called away, then please accept my apologizes in advance.”

Stiles nodded. “Okay. I’ll talk to my current teacher and, if he’s okay with it, maybe I can drop some of his sessions in favor of coming to see you.” Stiles shrugged. 

“An excellent idea,” Oak agreed. “Now, for today, let me show you how to tap into the Earth magic that resides in all living things.” Oak reached for his hand again. 

This time, instead of moving their hands, Oak simply clasped Stiles’s hand and let his magic flow into Stiles. For a moment nothing happened. Then, Stiles looked up and saw Oak looking at him patiently. He had a second of panic trying to figure out what he was supposed to do. Then he felt Oak’s unshielded magic brush against his skin again. Stiles took a deep breath. He looked into Oak’s eyes, but didn’t see any kind of trap there. He mentally crossed his fingers that he wasn’t about to screw himself over and dropped his shields.

The moment his magic connected with Oak’s it was like a charge went through him and a part of his brain that he didn’t even realize he had surged into activity. He blinked and the forest around him burst into a cacophony of color with tiny sparks of energy from within each plant and bird and bug. Oak was almost blinding. Stiles blinked again and pulled his hand away from Oak’s. His vision dialed back to his normal aura vision, though the colors were still there. He blinked again and his vision fully cleared. 

Oak chuckled and patted him heavily on the shoulder. “The first time is an adjustment for all of your kind,” Oak reassured him. “Feel free to reach out and touch the smaller energies of plants, but stay away from the hotter fires of living beings, especially other mortals. Playing with those energies can have dire effects.” Stiles nodded rapidly because he could totally see that going poorly. He could just imagine the horrible ways magic like that could go wrong. “And also beware the ley lines, which are rich in this area. They may seem like a tempting source of magic, but the power they hold is too great. You would burn yourself out from the inside.” 

Stiles shuddered at that lovely image. “Noted.” He looked around the forest again, which definitely seemed more alive than it ever had before. “I’ve waited this long to learn,” he said, “I’ll do my best to wait for you to teach me things and avoid accidentally blowing myself up with my magic.” 

He blinked to focus his vision. It only took a thought for the Earth energies to come into focus again. Stiles leaned back in his chair and reached out to touch one of the nearby vines. It felt slightly warm to his touch, like he was feeling not only the texture of the vine but the energy within. It was interesting. The energy was just kind of there. It wasn’t like when Deaton cast a spell, but more like the potential for one.

Oak’s hand rested on his shoulder again. Stiles didn’t hesitate to let their magics blend. He watched as Oak’s magic flowed through him and into the vine. Under his eyes the vine grew into a thick tendril, curling up Stiles’s arm. Then, Oak’s magic changed and the vine shrank to the way it had been before. Oak squeezed his shoulder gently before pulling away. “Now you try.”

Stiles took a deep breath and concentrated on the vine. He thought about the vine growing, visualized it stretching forward in his mind. Nothing happened. 

He let out his breath in a frustrated huff before trying again. Stiles pictured the way Oak had used his magic. He reached out with his own magic, touching the spark of energy within the vine. Stiles bit his lip and willed the vine to grow. He let out a hoot of joy as the vine surged forward. It curled around his arm like a friendly snake. 

Behind him, Oak chuckled. “Good job,” he said. “Now see if you can return the vine to normal.”

Stiles nodded absently, his attention still focused on the energy within the vine. He pictured the vine the way it had been in his mind. A touch of his magic and his will were all that it took to have the vine shrinking again. Stiles pulled his hand away once the vine was back to normal. He grinned up at Oak. 

The leshy smiled back at him as he returned to the other side of the table, sinking into one of the other chairs. “Excellent. Now, practice makes perfect as your kind says.” Oak nodded to the vine.

He nodded, reaching out to touch the vine again. It was easier to get the vine to grow this time. And easier still to shrink it. By the fourth go around, all it took was a thought from him for the vine to grow then shrink. Stiles turned to look at Oak even as he kept practicing his magic. “Is this something that I would have been able to learn how to do if I hadn’t met you?” Stiles asked. He waved his free hand at his head. “Like, if you hadn’t given me a magical upgrade?”

Oak nodded. “I am confident that you would have eventually,” he said. “Either you would have found a spell in a book or you would have found a teacher who would have taught you. Failing that, your affinity towards Earth magics is strong enough that you may have figured it out on your own one day. All I did was unlock your potential a little early.” Oak shrugged. “It’s the way that we teach our own kind.”

“Oh.” Stiles wasn’t sure what to say to that. He licked his lips and looked down at the vine. “Um… What about the other elements? Can you tell how strong I am in those?” Stiles looked back up at Oak. “Deaton has really only been able to teach me stuff with lights and shields.”

“Earth has probably always been and will always be your strongest affinity,” Oak said, “which is what drew me to you and you to me. You also have quite the fire inside of you. With training it can be as strong as your Earth. Water and Wind are weaker, but you will be able to work with them. You will never be able to harness a tornado’s full potential, but as your strength grows you will become better than many Water and Wind practitioners.”

Stiles stared at Oak in shock for a minuted. “Wow.” He couldn’t help the smile the stretched across his face. “Cool.” 

Oak smiled at him kindly. “I think that is enough practice for one day, young Spark,” Oak said. 

Stiles blinked. He had forgotten about the vine. He released the bit of magic linking himself to it. Stiles pushed himself up from the chair. “I should probably be getting back anyways.” He looked back in the general direction of the Hale house. “Wouldn’t want the wolves to think I’d gotten lost.”

Oak laughed. “Those with Earth magic are never truly lost.” Oak rose as well. Stiles couldn’t help smiling at the promise held in those words. They teased at the kind of powerful magic user he could one day become. He started to turn, but stopped when Oak called his name. “There are rumors of dangerous ones among your kind.” Oak’s gaze travelled to the forest around them. “My power extends only so far. Be careful in the world of men.” Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat, but nodded. “Trust your instincts,” Oak said solemnly. “You have within you the ability to see the true nature of a creature and that is a powerful gift indeed.”

“Will do,” Stiles promised. “Thanks.” He gave Oak a small smile and turned back towards the path. 

“Safe travels, my friend,” Oak called after him. “I look forward to our next meeting.” Stiles turned and waved. Then, he passed through the thick layer of vines and leaves that sheltered Oak’s clearing and the leshy was hidden from sight. 

Stiles had to pause once he was back on the path. It was like he was seeing the forest in a whole new way now. Even without shifting his vision to look for the sparks of Earth magic, he could feel the energy in the forest. The path itself felt almost alive under him. Oak had hinted at it, but Stiles had a feeling that he would literally be able to tell where any path in the forest went after just a bit more training. 

He couldn’t help grinning as he started jogging back down the path towards the Hale house. This was the biggest breakthrough he’d had in magic since he found out about magic and it was awesome. He couldn’t wait to tell the others about it.

Stiles stuttered to a stop as a thought occurred to him. Oak had mentioned knowing that Hales, but not even Peter or Deaton had ever mentioned that there was a leshy living in the forests and Stiles had never run into Oak when he’d been out playing with the other Hale kids under Vera’s watch. So, either Oak was lying about his intentions, which… Stiles didn’t think was the case. He felt like he could trust Oak. There was something very pure about his aura that Stiles had never encountered before. 

As he thought he started up again at a slow jog. Derek would probably call him stupid for trusting a fae, but he really felt like he could trust Oak. The leshy had had plenty of chances to harm Stiles, but hadn’t. He’d helped him in fact. Stiles decided not to mention the leshy’s presence to the Hales, though he would talk to Deaton about it. Deaton was secretive enough that he’d keep it to himself unless there was a good reason not to. The Hales and the rest of the pack, on the other hand… Peter would probably go searching for Oak as soon as he knew about him from sheer curiosity. 

With that decided, Stiles picked up his pace and within minutes he was back in sight of the house. He paused at the edge of the treeline. The back yard was empty, though the various pack cars were still there. Stiles considered the house for a moment before turning towards his car instead. He leaned into the back of the Jeep and rummaged through his lacrosse bag. Stiles heard a door slam, but didn’t pay any attention to it as he fished out a clean shirt. He tossed his sweaty shirt in the back to deal with later. Once he’d pulled the new shirt on, he turned towards the house, only to find Scott suddenly beside him.

“Jesus,” Stiles muttered as he startled backwards into the Jeep. He shook his head before turning to fish his deodorant out of the bag and slap some on. “Give a guy some warning.”

“You’re not leaving are you?” Stiles didn’t even need to turn to look to tell that Scott had the full puppy dog effect going on. “Mrs. Hale ordered pizza and we were about to put on a movie,” Scott said.

Stiles just barely managed to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “No,” he said as he shoved his things back in his bag. “I’m not leaving. Just wanted to freshen up a bit. You know, not assault the werewolfy senses quite so much after my run.” He did shake his head at the surprised look on Scott’s face. “Come on,” he said, resting a hand on Scott’s back to steer him back towards the house.

Inside he found the rest of the pack was spread out in the living room. Cora and her younger siblings were sprawled out on the floor while the others perched on all the available chairs. Scott immediately went back over to where he and Allison were sharing a chair. Stiles hesitated in the doorway, but it looked like all the spots were taken. He resigned himself to sitting on the floor next to Cora when Erica called his attention. She wiggled herself up into Boyd’s lap, and patted the now empty spot at the end of the couch. Stiles thought he caught a bit of a blush on Boyd’s face and couldn’t help grinning. He caught Erica’s eyes and knew that she had seen it too judging by the mischievous glint in her eyes. 

“One sec,” he said, spotting the plates of food in varying states of demise scattered around the coffee table and other surfaces. “Let me just grab some pizza.”

“Here.”

Before Stiles could take more than a few steps towards the dining room a full plate was shoved into his path. Stiles stared down at the plate in surprise for a second. It was loaded with all of his favorites. His gaze followed the arm holding it up to Derek’s surly face. He pushed the plate towards Stiles until Stiles actually took it and then Derek was gone, sliding in next to Laura on one of the other couches. Stiles blinked down at the plate again before mentally shrugging. He turned into the living room instead and plopped down next to Erica. 

It looked like he had missed the usual bickering about which movie to pick. He wasn’t sure who had won the argument, but both Laura and Lydia looked particularly pleased with the selection. Stiles didn’t really care what they watched. He settled in to watch the generic romantic comedy, something with Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling, but didn’t really give it too much attention. Instead he was mentally preparing how he would go about telling Deaton about Oak. Because really, how did you tell your friendly neighborhood Druid that you were trading them in for lessons with a Leshy?

That question preoccupied him throughout the entire movie and the drive home. It kept him up at night and distracted him through his morning classes. First of all, he didn’t want to offend Deaton. Stiles really appreciated all the time Deaton had put in training him thus far, but Deaton had admitted that he could only take Stiles so far. Oak was offering him the type of magic that he felt much more suited to. It was the kind of stuff he dreamed about doing, the kind of magic Derek and the pack needed him to do. 

And there was also the issue of having to convince Deaton that it wasn’t all some elaborate fairy trap when there was really no way for Stiles to know for sure that it was not. Oak seemed trustworthy to him. His aura didn’t have anything sinister in it, but Stiles also didn’t really know much about his aura magic. Maybe there was a way for fae to project false auras or to mask part or all of their auras. Who knew.

He was so distracted by his magical problems, that he didn’t even notice that their English teacher had been replaced at first. Stiles did a double take, but yup. The woman at the front of the room was definitely not the heavily pregnant woman he’d seen the day before. Instead of Mrs. Morrison, there was a young, brown haired woman waiting at the front of the room with her hands clasped. There was a bit of murmuring among the students as they settled in their seats. The teacher smiled at them pleasantly. 

“Good afternoon,” she greeted once everyone was settled. “Mrs. Morrison will be out on maternity leave for awhile, so I will be covering her classes.” She turned towards the board, speaking as she wrote. “My name is Miss Blake.” She wrote her name in one corner of the board before turning back to them. “So, to get started, why don’t you each take out a piece of paper and write me a synopsis of the book you’ve been reading with Mrs. Morrison so I can gauge where you all are in your understanding.” She turned and strode across the front of the class as they all shuffled to get out paper. “Don’t just focus on what happened, but include who the main characters are and how they’re related to each other. What motivated the characters actions?” Miss Blake stopped near the window and surveyed the class. “Also, phones off, everyone.”

Stiles bit his lip as he started outlining the plot of The Great Gatsby. He’d already finished the book, so it wasn’t really that hard. He just had to think for a minute to try to remember the order that things happened in. He looked down and frowned when he caught sight of a large bandage on Lydia’s ankle. “Hey, Lydia.” Lydia glanced at him briefly. “What is that?” He pointed downwards. 

“Prada bit me,” Lydia whispered before turning back to writing. 

“Your dog?” 

“No, my designer handbag,” Lydia said before rolling her eyes. “Yes, my dog.” She gave him a look like she was 110% done with the conversation.

“Has it ever bitten you before?” Stiles asked, leaning slightly closer. He leaned back in his seat when Lydia shook her head. Stiles bit at the end of his pencil while he thought. Oak’s warning suddenly rang in his head. The leshy, being an Earth elemental, was in tune with nature. He would know if there was a disturbance in the force, so to speak. And now, animals were acting weird. His dad had gotten that call about a deer running straight into a guy’s car the other night. And Deaton had been constantly getting interrupted by calls during their lessons. People kept calling him about their animals suddenly acting abnormal or wild animals wandering into town from the woods. Stiles couldn’t help remembering reading somewhere that animals started acting weird right before an earthquake or things like that. And now there was Morrell, another Emissary in town, maybe more. He had to wonder if it meant something was coming. Or maybe it was the dangerous people Oak had talked about. Maybe they were already here.

As if summoned by his thoughts a bird slammed into the window, startling half the class. Stiles looked over in horror at the bloody mark it left. The substitute stopped writing on the board and went towards the window. Stiles’s eyes went wide as he saw what had to be hundreds of birds flying towards the school. They all jumped when another bird crashed into the window, this time hard enough to leave visible cracks in the glass.. Then a third hit and a fourth and a fifth. People started screaming as the glass broke and birds flew into the classroom itself. 

“Get down, everyone!” Miss Blake shouted, waving her hands frantically. 

Stiles scrambled forward and pulled Lydia behind and under him. His magic was poised in his fingertips, ready to throw up a shield if he needed to. Behind him, Scott was crouched in front of Allison, protecting her from any flying glass. Once in the classroom, the birds started to go crazy, pecking and scratching at people. Miss Blake pulled two of the students behind her desk, using that as cover. Everyone else did their best to huddle in groups or use their little student desks as cover. The room was in chaos. No one was paying attention to him. Stiles took the chance to sweep a blast of air through the classroom with a wave of his hand. He threw the birds out of the classroom. 

Suddenly, everything went quiet. Stiles slowly rose to his feet, absently helping Lydia to do the same. The class was a mess of overturned desks and papers. Dead birds littered the floor. Even the glass in the door to the hallway was cracked. It was lucky none of the birds managed to break through into the rest of the school. 

“Are you okay?” he heard Scott ask Allison. Stiles snapped back to himself. He quickly masked his magic as Miss Blake and the others climbed to their feet. For a brief second, he thought he caught of glimpse of magic from Miss Blake, a flash of an expression on her face that was quickly masked. Then, the flash was gone. Miss Blake took a deep breath as she looked around the room with wide eyes.

“Everyone just, stay calm,” she said in a shaky voice. “I’m going to get the nurse. I just need everyone to stay here.” With that the woman strode off into the hallway. 

Stiles looked over at Scott. Scott looked just as lost as he felt. Stiles looked down at the mess around them. He nodded towards the desks and Scott shrugged. They reached down and started to right the desks. After a few minutes some of the others started to pitch in. Lydia was sorting out Stiles’s things from hers while Allison collected loose papers. Scott took up the task of collecting the dead birds. He supposed Scott had handled enough animals at the vet clinic that a few dead birds weren’t too strange. After a few minutes Miss Blake came back in the room with the principal and nurse following her. They both stopped dead inside the room with wide eyes. The nurse immediately rushed for some of the students still huddled on the floor, pulling open her med kit and getting to work. The principal pulled out his phone and stepped back into the hallway. 

Miss Blake just kind of stopped near her desk, staring at the mess in front of her. They all continued to do what they were doing, though Stiles saw the other students glancing towards Miss Blake worriedly. The woman looked pretty shaken. She jumped when the door opened. The principal returned with two deputies. They briefly conferred with Miss Blake before the principal turned to the rest of the room. 

“The deputies just need to get everyone’s statements,” he announced. “If you’re injured, please make an orderly line along one side of the room. EMTs are on their way. Otherwise, please just wait where you are while the deputies do their jobs. I’ll be calling your families if anyone needs to arrange for a ride home. You’re all free to leave once you’ve spoken to a deputy.” With that the principal strode out of the room again, probably to figure out how to fix this mess. Half of the class started to mob the deputy, probably eager to go home with the other half lined up to get treated by the nurse. Stiles stayed where he was in a circle with Lydia and the others.

“Well, this dress is ruined,” Lydia muttered. Stiles looked over at her and saw that, while he’d managed to keep her from getting hurt, her dress had gotten stained with bird blood when they’d hit the floor. He decided it was best not to comment. Instead he looked back around the room. Once more Miss Black was frozen at the front of the room, just kind of staring off into the distance. 

Stiles looked over at Scott and the others before slowly approaching their teacher. “Miss Blake, are you okay?” He was a little relieved to hear sirens in the distance, signalling the arrival of his dad and hopefully more medical professionals. A look over at the line for the nurse clearly confirmed that she was going to be overwhelmed. He looked back at Miss Blake and saw her nodding minutely, which he took as a good sign. 

He reached forward and the teacher flinched backwards. “Uh, sorry, just…” He gave her an apologetic look as he reached back and pulled a black feather from her hair. “That.” He dropped the feather and wiped his hand off on his pants. 

His dad chose that moment to show up with a wave of EMTs. Stiles felt a sudden rush of relief. He nodded at his dad while Noah paced forward to examine the windows. Stiles’s eyes widened when he caught Mr. Argent slipping in among the crowd. He wondered if the principal had started calling families already. Mr. Argent made a beeline for Allison. He gave Scott a brief glance before steering Allison away towards one side of the room. Stiles edged his way closer as Chris looked his daughter over for injuries. Thankfully Scott had shielded her from the worst of it, so all she had was a light scratch on her arm.

“First the deer and now this,” Chris said in a low voice, mirroring Stiles’s earlier thoughts. “It can’t be a coincidence.” Stiles had to bite his lip to keep from commenting. He did feel a bit of vindication that he had been right.

“Mr. Argent,” Noah said, striding across the room. “You wouldn’t happen to have any insight into this, would you?” Stiles looked up at his dad in surprise.

Chris appeared to be just as surprised. “Me?”

“Yeah,” Noah continued. “All this bizarre animal behavior, it’s… You must have seen something like this before, right?”

Chris pasted on a friendly smile. “I’m not sure why I would or why you would think I would.”

“I’m sorry,” Noah said with a confused frown. “I could have sworn I overheard my son talking about how you were an experience hunter.” Stiles felt a bit of dread at that. He met Mr. Argent’s gaze and did not like the consideration there. 

“Ah, right.” Chris nodded his head. “Well, not anymore. I’m sorry.” 

Noah nodded. He turned towards Allison. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Allison said with an awkward smile. 

Stiles caught his dad looking at him. Noah nodded towards the hallway and Stiles quickly crossed the room to follow his dad out into the hallway. They walked a little ways down until the came to a clear stretch where they couldn’t be overheard. “Does this have anything to do with the Hales and your… magic thing?” Noah asked. 

Stiles ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly, I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s too weird not to be a coincidence. I mean….” He waved his hand back at the classroom and the chaos there.

“We’ve had fifteen calls in the past hour,” Noah said. “I’m starting to think there’s something in the water.”

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed. “Deaton has been getting a lot of calls too.” He opened his mouth, but closed it again quickly when students started to filter out of the English room. “You might want to go stop by Deaton’s,” he suggested. “I’ll swing by the Hales, see if they know anything.”

Noah nodded. “Not a bad idea. I’ll meet you there after.” He pulled Stiles close in a hug for a second. “Be careful.”

**Author's Note:**

> A quick note about the timeline for the story: As you may have noticed from the first arc, the story follows the general timeline from the TV series with some major divergences. First of all are the major differences in the backstory - the Hales didn’t die in the fire and Kate Argent is already dead. The ramifications from these changes are more than just being able to include the Hale family as characters, but also means that there will be no Alpha Pack and the backstories of the various Alphas in the Alpha pack differ. Secondly, while in the TV series Scott is bit at the beginning of their sophomore year (2011), in this story he’s not bitten until midway through their junior year (2012), so that’s going to throw things off a bit too.


End file.
